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"Bonk the happy! Bunk the blest! 
Bunk the ne'er forgotten ! 
Quite thy like in east or west 
Never has been brought on.'* 



Ropes' Ends 



?^M& 



TRADITIONS, LEGENDS AND 

SKETCHES OF 

OLD KENNEBUNKPORT 

AND VIQNITY 



By ANNIE PEABODY BROOKS 



iS^st^ 



Published by the Author 

KENNEBUNKPORT, MAINE 

J90I 



r ^. \ 



THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
Two Copies Received 

AUG.. 19 1901 

COPVRIQHT ENTRY 

CLASS <^XXa No. 
COPY 13. 



Copyright, J 90 J 
By Annie Pcabody Brooks 



The Lakeside Press 

Engravers, Printers and Binders 

Portland, Me. 



to 



To the hallowed memoty of my 
paternal grandmother, Rath Crediford, 
who, were she still living, would have 
passed her 1 29th birthday, do I dedicate 
this simple little book. 




INTRODUCTION. 

ROM childhood the author has 
taken great pleasure in treas- 
uring up the folk-lore of the 
vicinity^ and many interesting 
stories known, which would add greatly 
to the worth of the following pages, 
must be withheld, as none now live who 
can vouch for their occurrence. Several 
of the marginal cuts are of especial 
worth, since by this means will be pre- 
served reminders of the past, otherwise 
forgotten. The superscription of a letter 
of condolence to a widower, in 1786, 
by Schoolmaster Thompson, is truly a 
curiosity. The history of this pioneer 
instructor, Ezra Thompson, is known to 
very few of the present generation. 
After all the good he accomplished in 
the way of raising the standard of soci- 
ety and enlightenment of the people, he 
at last died penniless. In a peaceful spot 



in the ^^ Smith Neighborhood '^ is seen 
his lonely grave. The large slate tomb- 
stone stands in its place untouched by 
the brush of Time, as perfect as when 
first placed there at the expense of a 
grateful town. The inscription to be 
found thereon is well worth a visit for in- 
spection. The Collector's Notice, which 
has held its place on a door in an upper 
room of the old Custom House for more 
than one hundred years, is fast fading 
away. 

Ah ! Kennebunfcport, can I ever forget thee ! 

Thou loveliest spot that earth's mortal knows ; 
With thy beach, and thy rocks and fair, winding 
river, 

And odorous wood where the fir balsam grows. 




CONTENTS. 

The Aborigfines. 

Legfend of the Blowing Cave. 

Cape Porpoise. 

Dinah's Rock. 

The Beautiful Exile. 

The Golden Rod. 

The First Domestic Cat. 

The Sweet Singer. 

The Triplets. 

Tale of My Grandmother's Goose. 

How ^'Aunt Rebecca" Kept the Savages 

at Bay. 
The Old Falls. 

The Vessel What Launched Herself. 
Clippings. 

A Thanksgiving Anecdote. 
The Rope-Walk. 
Loss of the Barque Isadore. 
Pedestrianism. 

The Ten-Hour System in Kennebunk. 
In War Time. 



My Cruise Up the River. 

The Seamen. 

The Churches. 

'* Uncle Joshua^s^' Ultimatum to Spain. 

The Town House. 

Extracts from a Famous Platform. 

Some Famous Men. 

A Modern Ghost Story. 






• 




l£J.i 



■^^i^ n 







^ < 



X! 



THE ABORIGINES. 

IHE story of the Indian, as 
j described by the first voy- 
agers, has been so often 



repeated and enlarged upon, that 
the interest held in its perusal must 
hereafter depend upon the facility 
of the writer in his own method of 
presenting it. Of the origin of the 
American Indian no certain knowl- 
edge has ever been learned. Re- 
specting his characteristics all writers 
agree that, if they forgave not 
injury, neither did they forget kind- 
ness. Their love, like their hate, 
only ended at the grave. In spite 
of the more common appellation of 
Savage, they, after all, possessed, in 
a certain sense, a rude civilization. 



13 



No matter to what straits of distress 
they might be reduced, still the seeds 
of their cultivated products were 
always preserved, A pretty legend 
of the origin of the corn was once 
told by a very old lady, living in an 
adjoining town, who prided herself 
on her knowledge of Indian ways. 
It need not be related of the maize 
that it was the one great production 
of our dusky brother. On a long 
and tedious march ahead, through a 
desolate country, the only article of 
food provided was a goodly supply 
of the parched corn, which not only 
satisfied the cravings of hunger, but 
also served as a preventive of suf- 
fering from thirst when passing 
through regions destitute of water. 
14 



They were a hardy race* No 
weak infant could survive the ex- 
posure and hardship to which all 
Indian offspring were subjected; 
hence those who outlived this period 
were sturdy and well adapted to 
cope with the rough life which lay 
before them. However, they had 
their periods of illness, like any other 
race, and well these rude people 
knew how to meet it, since they 
possessed considerable knowledge of 
medical cures by means of roots, 
herbs, etc. Could the secret of many 
of these remedies be known, no 
doubt it would prove many times a 
benefit. One word on the especial 
hardihood of their women will not 
be amiss. These uncouth sisters 



IS 




knew far better how to regard the 
laws of health than does the gentle^ 
civilized female of the twentieth 
century^ and by their simple atten- 
tion to the requirements of the laws 
of Nature were able to perpetuate 
their race in dignified bearing and 
noble physique. After this descrip- 
tion the settler found them. How 
are they to-day ?— all changed. The 
white man^ with his worthless bau- 
bles and accursed fire-water^ robbed 
the Indian of the furs which per- 
mitted him to withstand the severity 
of the cold. Disease came among 
them, — the dreaded consumption, 
which, till now, they had never 
known, wrought havoc such as no 
pestilence familiar to their earliest 

i6 






traditions had ever done. Oppres- 
sion robbed them of their upright, 
manly form and wonderful appear- 
ance, until now how do we find 
him? Stooping shoulders, down- 
cast look, the perfect type of despair. 
What is the future of the poor 
Indian? Driven hither and yon ^g 
from one hunting-ground to another ^■ 
until he can go no farther, there 
remains but one thing for him — to 
turn his face towards civilization. 
Can he do this? What will be the 
final outcome of these problems, 
time, alone, can tell. 

Can a tree that is torn from its roots by the 

fountain. 
The pride of the valley, green-spreading 

and fair, 
Can it flourish, removed to the rock of the 

mountain, 
Unwarmed by the sun and unwatered by 

care? 



LEGEND 
OF THE BLOWING CAVE. 

n^S^HE legend of the Blowing 
^|r Cave, concerning a beau- 
■^^m tiful Indian maiden and a 
bold and true warrior, although over 
three centuries old, is far too poetical 
to lose a place in this modest little 
book. The maiden belonged to the 
tribe of Pocasset, a race long since 
passed away* One day a young 
brave, sen of a noble chieftain, 
strayed down from the northward 
on a prolonged hunting excursion, 
so common during the time of the 
early tribes, and accidentally caught 
a glimpse of the fair maiden* From 
this very instant she became queen 
of his hearths throne and the maiden, 

i8 



with sighs and blushes, acknowl- 
edged that no longer was her heart 
in her keeping. But, alas! for the 
wooing. The laws of the stern 
tribes, known as the " Great Spirit's 
Decree/' forbade the union of these 
lovers until his voice should roar 
over the ocean with a strength that 
should rend in twain the gigantic 
cliff overhanging their trysting place 
and leave the shore scattered with 
its fragments. When, no longer, 
Hope lingered to cheer the lovers 
and the day came when they must 
part, they donned their festival gar- 
ments, ascended the towering cliff 
and, after chanting their death-song, 
while clasped in each other's arms, 
plunged to their long, dreamless rest. 



19 



When morning once more dawned 
the mighty rock had fallen^ and the 
ocean tide^ rolling on in its grand^ 
ceaseless motion, was washing its 
fragments over the very spot where 
the lovers had died. 



And -when we behold the crest breaking 
'Gainst the bowlders that lie on the shore, 

We can fancy their death-song commingling, 
And lost in the loud billows' roar. 

And -when the w^ild ocean seems slumb'ring. 
And soft o'er its breast sw^eeps the surge. 

In fancy, the s'weet, plaintive music 

Wails for the hapless, fond lovers a dirge. 





Cape Light. 




CAPE PORPOISE. 

I ROM a favorable position 
on Cape Porpoise Heights 
one can obtain the very 
best view of this ideal fishing ham- 
let^ nestled so securely in the little 
valley overlooking the magnificent 
harbor, sheltered by the fair islands 
surrounding it; and as you look, do 
not fail to stay your footsteps while 
you ponder well on the remarkable 
trail of thrilling events which tradi- 
tion and history passed down so 
imperfectly to the present generation. 
Well may any individual claim, with 
pride, the great honor of having first 
seen the liglit of day in ''Old Cape 
Porpus/' For was not this little 
corner of the earth the first to meet 




the gaze of the anxious eyes of 
Captain Gosnold in that momentous 
voyage of discovery in behalf of 
^^Good Queen Elizabeth ^^ and his 
cherished country nearly three hun- 
dred years ago ? About eight years 
after this Cape Porpoise was again 
honored by a trading visit from no 
less a personage than Captain Smith, 
the famous navigator. During his 
sojourn in these parts he, likely, 
gave the territory its present name 
from a shoal of porpoises seen in its 
vicinity. While it may be possible, 
it is at the same time not probable 
that any colony was settled previous 
to the year 1620. 

As every historian can tell, nearly 
all the first settlers of Maine were 



►tI 



> 
TO 




fishermen or traders, consequently 
there would have been no object for 
a visit before March, the ** old style " 
ending of the year, so when all ac- 
counts to be obtained are summed 
up, it is more than likely that the 
first settlement at Cape Porpoise was 
effected the summer before the land- 
ing of the Pilgrims, These early set- 
tlers, ever suspicious of the treachery 
of the red man, planted their colony 
on an island in the eastern harbor 
that they might more conveniently 
defend or make good their escape in 
case of a sudden attack. The places 
where the fishermen cured their fish 
in those days were known as ** fish- 
ing stages." This noted island 
(Stage Island) to the present day 

23 



still bears the name so honestly 
earned nearly three centuries gone 
by* Within one hundred and fifty 
years the burial spot of these pio- 
neers was well known, in tradition 
at least, as the ^^old burying-ground ** 
to distinguish it from the more mod- 
ern one located directly in front of 
Stone Haven Hotel* 

To-day the waters of the blue 
Atlantic ebb and flow at will over 
this very spot of earth where rested 
all that was mortal of these rude 
fishermen, all traces of that portion 
of the island having, long since, 
disappeared by the slow and steady 
work of erosion* Difficult indeed 
does it seem, after going backward 
through the lapse of time, to con- 
24 



ceive that ever this picturesque little 
province^ so peaceful and thrifty, 
could once have been the scene of a 
reign of terror, as the following ac- 
counts must truly bear witness of. 
While the fort on Stage Island was 
able to retain the few soldiers allotted 
to this section, the inhabitants man- 
aged to abide in partial safety. 
Somewhat encouraged by the peace- 
able attitude of the Indians for so 
many months, such enterprise as 
until now was never seen began to 
take root in all quarters* The flocks 
and herds, fast increasing, added 
much to the worldly possessions of 
the settlers. More attention was i 

given to their homes and a better sj^ 
feeling prevailed among the people. ^/ 



^ 



The return of Governor Andros to 
Massachusetts after that unhappy, 
disastrous siege against the Eastern 
Indians was soon followed by the 
desertion of the soldiers from Stage 
Island Fort* The savages, about 
this time, appeared in such numbers 
that the thoroughly alarmed inhab- 
itants sought refuge, as a last resort, 
in the fort, the Indians coming after 
in hot pursuit* Forlorn enough was 
this company huddled together in 
this insecure shelter, nearly sur- 
rounded by deep water, the narrow 
neck of land (bare at low water) 
leading to the mainland occupied by 
the enemy, with little food and a 
scarcity of ammunition* Fortunate- 
ly, the pursued were somewhat pro- 
26 



w 




tected by a fine stone-wall, behind 
which effectual fire could be kept up 
when harassed by the Indians, who, 
having not even the friendly shelter 
of bushes, soon retreated, with the 
intention of either starving them out 
or surprising the fort. When the 
last charge was in the muskets (the 
bullets having been cut in two to 
complete the work), at this critical 
moment a little girl of seven sum- 
mers, clinging close to the side of 
the aged grandmother, besought her, 
in tones of anguish, to pray. Bow- 
ing her head in the midst of the 
awe-stricken assembly, she called 
upon the great Father above to avert 
their impending doom, if consistent 
with His will, or else receive into 




27 




His keeping the souls of the victims 
of savage hatred. After this most 
plaintive prayer the fort was soon 
deserted for fear of being surrounded 
and the hopeless people retreated to 
the southern point of the island; 
from this narrow point they were 
exposed only on one side. The only 
boat at their disposal was an old 
punt with one end nearly broken 
away. Brave Nick Morey^ inspired 
by the grandmother^s prayer, under 
cover of darkness courageously set 
forth for assistance, iwenty-five miles 
distant. By remaining in the whole 
end of the craft he managed to keep 
her afloat, while the suffering com- 
pany left behind, without food or 
shelter, although cherishing small 
28 




A Fishing Schooner 



hopes of his reaching Portsmouth, 
still strained their gaze in that direc- 
tion. Just as the shades of evening 
were closing in a sloop appeared 
heading for the Cape. As soon as 
she was safely within the harbor 
the crew discharged a swivel at the 
Indians, who fled, panic-stricken, to 
the forest. Hastily gathering the 
exhausted whites on board, they 
departed on the home trip, and 
neither did one of these inhabitants 
return for a space of ten years. 

Of all the Indian lore learned in 
childhood, this story is the one most 
frequently told, and we deeply regret 
that the subsequent history of Mr. 
Morey told to me by ^'Aunt Kattern 
AverhilP' cannot be substantiated, 
29 



as little proof can be obtained after 
diligent search in many directions. 
This old lady would declare^ in con- 
nection with the story^ that when 
the whites again returned to their 
old haunts Nick Morey made one 
of the number; that here he abode 
until death, when, granting his last 
request, his body was laid at rest in 
a beautiful spot on Green Island, 
plainly seen from the lighthouse. In 
digging the graves for the bodies of 
two sailor-men, brought in from a 
passing vessel, several human bones 
were discovered, and the old gentle- 
man from whom I learned this 
stoutly declared them to be the 
remains of the valiant fisherman. 
We never grow weary of singing 

30 



the praises of Paul Revere, Phil 
Sheridan and others, — school chil- 
dren receive inspiration from quoting 
their wonderful deeds, yet no more 
deserving of eulogy are any of these 
than this hero of heroes, the unpre- 
tending Nicholas Morey. 

The thrilling and fascinating 
events which have occurred between 
the coming of the first settlers and 
the present time must, for lack of 
space, be touched upon very lightly* 
Who would believe that, in the long 
ago, the dreaded whipping-post once 
occupied a conspicuous place in this 
same village ? Also that Cape Por- 
poise was, more than once, indicted 
for failing to procure stocks, which 
the Government required at that 
31 



time? It is gratifying, however, to 
relate that although these stocks at 
length were secured they were never 
used, their presence alone being 
sufficient menace to prevent any 
meriting punishment by this method. 
No such clear record of the whip- 
ping-post is given, we are sorry to 
announce, for more than one shady 
report used to be told concerning it* 
The story of the Watson girl, 
who gave such timely assistance to 
her muscular father just as the huge 
savage was about to gain entrance 
by forcing himself backward through 
the heavy kitchen door, is well worth 
a place in any book touching on this 
locality. The weird story of ** the 
haunted house,^^ told in detail, would 




add another full chapter of vivid in- 
terest. The fate of the first church, 
how at length affairs connected with 
this edifice of holiness became so 
muddled that a few, interested in its 
welfare, with good judgment, con- 
cluded the only way out of the 
perplexity was to burn the church. 
Accordingly, says an old report, 
two trusty youths, under shadow of 
secrecy, were chosen for the purpose. 
After faithfully executing their trust 
they repaired to a certain house to 
partake of a dainty supper, provided 
by two women who favored this 
method of settling the difficulty. At 
the first meeting following the dis- 
aster, a churchman, not cognizant 
with the true state of the case, gave 

33 



voice to his convictions something 
like this: ^^O Lord, this church 
had long been the scene of conten- 
tion and strife, and now, in wisdom, 
hast Thou sent a fire-brand from 
heaven and destroyed it/^ 

It would seem from the following 
diverting anecdote (once going the 
rounds) that boys were just as fond 
of mischief and merriment in the 
olden time as at the present day. 
Many years gone past the Widow 
Watson lived, by herself, in a com- 
fortable abode not far from the heart 
of present Cape Porpoise* Her rep- 
utation as a joker and her fanciful 
sayings drew unusual attention from 
the lads of the neighborhood* There 
came a time when the first monkey 

34 



made his appearance in town. Now 
for some rare fun with ** Old Lady- 
Watson/^ In her absence from 
home, one afternoon, they contrived 
to leave the new pet in full possession 
of the good dame^s house. On her 
return she found the little animal 
ensconced on one of the beams of 
her living-room, peering down with 
evident curiosity regarding the in- 
vader. The restless eyes of the 
monkey just then spied out a near-by 
basket of eggs and he began pelting 
them at the floor below, Mrs, Wat- 
son, having never before seen an 
animal of this kind, was half con- 
vinced that it was Satan himself 
appearing in this new guise. At 
last, finding her tongue, she addressed 

35 



him thus; *^Is this you^ Mr. Wat- 
son, or is it the Devil? (down came 
another egg just grazing her nose) 
I believe it is you, for you always 
loved eggs/* This was too much 
for the boys and they came forth 
from their hiding-place and thus 
ended the soliloquy. 

Little need be said of modern 
Cape Porpoise, — it speaks for itself. 
The chief business of the place is 
still, as of old, the reputable one of 
fishing. Here, for generations, has 
this quiet, peaceful spot been the 
abode of a race of intelligent people, 
thrifty and prosperous. Here the 
wayfarer is sure of a welcome, food 
and shelter. Here no poverty, in its 
true sense, is ever met with. Some 
36 



great writer has declared we may 
look in vain for gross ignorance in 
a coast settlement bordering any 
civilized country. The assertion is 
very true; nothing tends to sharpen 
or expand one's ideas like the influ- 
ence of life upon the ocean or on the 
border ground of its limits. The 
flourishing condition of the schools 
here situated is truly surprising. 
The following sweet little poem^ so 
characteristic of the surroundings, 
was a gift of one of the native 
girls, whose long-continued connec- 
tion with the schools, as a teacher, 
has made her faithful service appar- 
ent throughout the community. 



37 






DEPTHS. 

By Helen F. Ward. 

At an open casement sitting. 

On the sea beyond I gaze, 
Enrapt in a dream of ■wonder. 

That its mighty depths oft raise. 
And it seems some strange song singing, 

In a tone so deep and grand 
That I feel almost transported 

To a -wondrous distant land. 

How^ smiling now seems its surface. 

Reflecting the sunbeams bright ; 
In its mood a child most playful. 

Dancing in the golden light, 
Seeining never, never weary, — 

Pure azure both sky and sea. 
And the boat upon its bosom 

Floats amid tranquility. 

But spite of its smiling surface. 

Oh what depths far, far faelow^ ; 
What treasures its w^aters cover 

That -would make our eyes to glow^, 
Where even the storm ne'er reaches ; 

Its anger in foam and spray 
Is only of surface w^aters. 

In its mood now grave, no^v gay. 

Is it thus w^ith grandest natures, 
Oft seeming so free and glad ? 

Bright and sparkling in the sunshine, 
Yet but depths in gay robes clad ; 

38 



o 




And even the strife and turmoil, 

Though knocking at heart and brain, 

But rebound against this stronghold 
And cannot an entrance gain. 

Before we leave the subject of 
schools allow yourself to be led, in 
fancy, to a certain plot near the 
residence of Captain Frank Nunan. 
There, if you look sharp for a bit, 
the object of your pilgrimage will 
appear, in the shape of a good-sized 
bowlder, carted, by Nature's method, 
from the bed-rock away back in the 
hills of New Hampshire, Of course, 
you will think this not worthy of 
much notice, knowing that many 
lost rocks have been traced, with 
certainty, to their parent ledge for 
a distance of two hundred miles 
or more, but the interest in this 

39 



reminder of the mysterious glacial 
period is the fact that the elements 
of this particular specimen give its 
origin to any lover of the science, 
without any of the toil or trouble 
generally undergone in the researches 
of the geologist* 

*** Come, wander with me/ she said, 
^Into regions yet untrod, 
And read what is still unread 
In the manuscripts of God/'^ 

Grim Death has recently claimed 
a rich harvest of the grand ^^old 
stock ^* so fast dropping out of the 
ranks, and as one familiar with the 
people of the place walks along the 
principal way they look in vain for 
some valued friend, whose departure 
40 




Mrs. Mary Austen. 



hence left a vacancy impossible to 
be replaced. The residence here 
given, while unpretentious in appear- 
ance, can readily be recognized as 
the happy home of ^* Uncle Tom '^ 
and ''Aunt Reallie/' Who, in this 
section, doesn't know these delightful 
people? Long may this charming 
old couple be spared to enjoy the 
rich benefit of numerous friends. 
And do not think the walk too 
wearisome to the ''Highlands,'' to 
make a call upon " Uncle John " and 
"Aunt Ruth," Here you will be told 
much of interest concerning the his- 
tory and improvements of the place. 
The accompanying likeness of the 
"Seavey triplets" is here produced 
as an especial mark of friendship 

41 



fostered by the family for the writer* 
Reared in an atmosphere of love, 
under the influence of Christian 
parents, these sisters have endeared 
themselves in the hearts of their 
neighbors and many friends by 
their kind deeds and loving interest 
in their welfare* Besides being very 
skilled in all the intricacies of the 
housekeeper, these sisters are pos- 
sessed of uncommonly sweet voices, 
which often blend in harmony 
around the parent fireside* 

Do not think of saying good-by 
without having first seen ^^ Uncle 
Stephen*^^ Truly he is one of the 
few remaining gentlemen of the old 
school* His hearty acknowledgment 
of your salutation will instantly enlist 
42 




50 



W 




you in his favor and his charming 
way of presenting facts is more than 
fascinating. Under Uncle Sam's 
flag no truer disciple of the princi- 
ples of Republicanism ever lived. In 
fact, '^ Uncle Hutchins'' has been 
known to assert that the downfall 
of some friend of opposite political 
belief was chiefly due to close adher- 
ence to Democratic theories. 

Within a moon not yet passed 
and in the early morn, a shadow 
flitted like a leaf past my window, 
and in another instant the subject 
of my thoughts stood before me. 
Quickly extending to the visitor the 
courtesy of the house, we then del- 
icately inquired the object of the visit. 

''Well," said Mary, ''some one 

43 



down home told me how you was 
writing a book and said you was 
going to have something about the 
Cape in it^ and I told ^em I bet you 
would like my picture if you could 
get iU I had some taken a few 
days ago and you shall have one if 
you want it/^ 

We readily acquiesced to the pro- 
posal. 

*'Now, what you going to say 
about me ? ** asked Mary. 

** What would you like to see in 
print about yourself?^' was the 
inquiry. 

** Wellf can^t you tell how hard I 
have worked, here, there and every- 
where, for twenty-four years, to 
keep my invalid brother from the 

44 



hands of charity? Who else you 
going to tell about down there? 
Now^ there hain't but three or four 
of the old standards left, you know, 
and 'twouldn't be any harm to 
mention ^em alL There's ^ Uncle 
Edmund/ didn't he always treat 
you well when you was the school- 
ma'am down there? And ^ Uncle 
George Avery/ over eighty years 
old and his memory just as good as 
ever, he'd feci slighted if you spoke 
about the rest and did not mention 
him. Besides, I s'pose you forgot 
about Mis Thomas Stone, as good 
an old Baptist as ever lived," — and 
in an undertone — '^I believe you 
are a Baptist, hain't ye?" 

Poor old Mary ! Who would not 

45 



be willingf to be the ** character ** of 
a community in which they live 
could they but possess the firm hold 
of the Christianas faith so evidently 
in the keeping of this simple woman? 

'T^vill not be long, the eye of faith discerning 
The ^vondrous glory that shall be revealed. 

Instructs the soul, that every day is learning 
The better wisdom which the •world concealed. 

Until the electric railway found 
its way into Cape Porpoise^ the vil- 
lage put you much in mind of what 
Arcadia might have been, — with 
the ingress of the modern road the 
village loses much of the romantic 
features once its own. But that 
which has been loss in one direction 
is of inestimable gain in another, 
and the residents very willingly 
46 



endorse this. Unlike the old lady, 
farther up the "line/' whose only 
objection to the proposed road was 
the danger of *' smoke '' and ** cin- 
ders '' gaining entrance into her 
west room, — the generous people of 
Cape Porpoise have never experi- 
enced any discomforts from this 
source, — and so we leave them. 
What will be the future of this old- 
time settlement ? Who can tell ? 




47 





DINAH^S ROCK. 

O MAN^ times as has 
been our delight to walk 
the length of the main 
thoroughfare of this historical region^ 
the invigorating breeze from the 
ocean prompting us^ unconsciously^ 
to hasten our footsteps^ until as we 
draw near to the place of a tragedy 
of Indian days so unlike any ever 
known to the history of early times^ 
just so many times do we, thought- 
lessly, linger for an instant, as if 
impelled by invisible spirits, while 
we turn a regretful glance upon all 
that is seen of the well-known 
Dinah's Rock, The fate of Dinah, 
the good squaw, is, indeed, harrow- 
ing to relate. During the summer 
./ 4S 






preceding her murder, a settler, liv- 
ing not far from this quarter, had 
allowed his little daughter to wander 
into the bushes near their house to 
gather her fill of the plentiful berries 
so tempting to childhood. The 
watchful eye of the parent, all un- 
suspecting of the danger lurking so 
near, was suddenly horrified to see 
a lithe savage spring from the 
underbrush, and before the agonized 
parent could lend any assistance the 
relentless hand of the assassin had 
buried the tomahawk, more than 
once, deep into the neck of his lovely 
child, and then rush away. Frenzied 
as he was over the loss of his child, 
he yet was calm enough to realize 
how fruitless would be the attempt 

49 



to set forth in haste for another 
victim towards reconciliation of his 
great loss. Something in the appear- 
ance of the white man caused her 
to take alarm, and she sped for the 
forest. She could easily have out- 
stripped the man in his maimed 
condition, but for the fatal mishap 
of catching the side of her snow-shoe 
in the crevice in the ledge. Before 
she could extricate herself her pur- 
suer had come up with her, and, 
giving deaf ear to her pleadings for 
quarter, he heartlessly brained her 
on the spot. For nearly two hun- 
dred years the ledge where all this 
occurred stood as a monument to 
commemorate the tragedy. The 
upper part was removed a few 

51 



years ago, and now serves as foun- 
dation of two dwelling-houses situ- 
ated at Cape Porpoise near the scene 
of the murder* While we greatly 
deplore the fate of the harmless 
squaw, still the motive leading up 
to its perpetration justifies the settler 
for this rash act of centuries ago* 




52 



H 



r 




THE BEAUTIFUL EXILE. 

^^ lUNE, the fairest of all the 
S^~M sisterhood of months, shone 
I ^^^^1 with magnificent glory 
upon all the region round about. It 
had seemed to the anxious few who 
then eked out a somewhat com- 
fortable existence here that Mother 
Nature must somehow have gotten 
behindhand in her duties to this 
part of the earth, for it had been an 
unusually tardy season. The few 
straggling settlers had little enough 
diversion towards driving away the 
ever-present feeling of homesickness, 
so it came to be a great source of 
pleasure to watch the manifestations 
of our great Creator in Nature, more 
especially the signs of thrice-beloved 

53 



spring. This year there were so 
many disappointments. The wood 
hyacinth, which the Indians had 
taught the white man to believe 
was the true harbinger of spring — 
come, not to go away again — had 
not yet left its mossy bed to give 
hope to the fearless wayfarer. 

With the welcome appearance of 
June a great change appears. Dame 
Nature seems suddenly to realize 
that she has, somehow, proved lag- 
gard, for all at once vegetation, in 
countless varieties, springs forward 
with an haste such as was seldom 
seen in this land of the setting 
sun. 

Near the close of one of these 
June days whose atmosphere was 

54 



balmy with the sweets of heaven, a 
long-expected vessel from home 
appeared over the eastern horizon. 
Every other interest, of each and all, 
became as nothing, and one hasty 
rush was made for the nearest point 
to give welcome to all on board* In 
the confusion of the heartfelt greet- 
ings extended to the few new settlers 
brought hither by this schooner, no 
one seemed to discover the beautiful 
stranger, until coming modestly for- 
ward she asked, in tones of refine- 
ment, to be directed to the house of 
a certain fisherman, whose home 
was in the neighborhood of the Great 
Pond, not far from the head of Stony 
Beach in the region known as Sandy 
Beach Cove. All attention was then 

55 




turned^ with eyes of admiration^ 
upon the graceful speaker* Until 
this bright June day no such fair 
lady had ever set foot on these 
shores. Who of the colony would 
leave one stone unturned to add to 
the comfort of this distinguished 
new arrival ? Yielding to persistent 
persuasions, she finally consented to 
remain over night with these hos- 
pitable people^ to somewhat recover 
from the fatigue of the voyage on 
the ocean waters, before pushing 
onward to her destination. The 
morning following she was kindly 
escorted by several good women of 
the colony to the home of the fisher- 
man. Gracefully returning her sin- 
cere thanks to the fisher-wives for 
56 



their kindness in her behalf, and 
requesting that sometimes they come 
to see her, if so be it she remained 
at any lengfth among them, she 
passed into the house, leaving the 
wondering women with their con- 
jectures respecting her sudden appear- 
ance in the colony. 

A word here, a hint there, and 
the more curious of the people had 
learned that the esteemed wife of the 
fisherman was own aunt to the gen- 
tle stranger. Soon rumor whispered 
that although amply supplied with 
means for her care and support, the 
scattering neighbors believed her to 
be one more unfortunate seeking 
seclusion to hide her shame. So 
the hot summer wore away, with 



little to relieve the monotony of her 
solitude. Those who were privi- 
leged to claim her friendship went 
fairly wild over her beauty and love- 
liness of character. Autumn was 
nearly verged into early winter^ 
when^ one dark^ stormy evening, 
the watchful aunt sent one of her 
sons, in great haste, across the 
woods for a neighbor, who lived 
very near what is now the town 
entrance to the old Cape Road, 
while the fisherman himself was 
despatched for a woman who lived 
some little distance beyond Wells 
River, whose skill in certain cases 
was known from York to Saco, the 
extreme limit of the coast settlement. 
Tradition gives more than common^ 

58 



minute description of this valuable 
woman^ presumably because of her 
great importance^ in time of need, to 
the settled portion of this territory. 
Keeping to the shore whenever he 
could, and almost feeling his way 
when passing through the forest, 
crossing each river as it came in his 
way by means of dug-out boats, left 
by common consent to serve as a 
ferry, he at last arrived at his desti- 
nation. The fording-place of the 
first river was again quickly reached 
by the fisherman and his companion, 
but, to their dismay, the boat was 
gone — the swift-boiling current had 
snatched it from the moorings* Not 
one moment did this grand woman, 
of long ago, wait* Promptly giving 

59 




heed to her instructions, a rude raft 
was soon constructed by the fisher- 
man from logs obtained from a 
tumble-down hut near by, and they 
were again ready for a fresh start* 
For the first time the good man 
hesitated; he too well knew the 
tremendous risk of the attempt in 
that angry tide with so frail a struc- 
ture* Without a second lost in 
contemplation, the fearless woman 
sprang for the raft, commanding the 
man to follow* As if guided by the 
hand of Providence, they reached 
the farther shore in safety, not a little 
disconcerted by their late experience* 
After this adventure they proceeded 
with less difficulty, having no hin- 
drance at either of the other two 
60 



\ 



''V. 




Among the Bowlders. 



rivers, and finally reached the fisher- 
man's home, to find the beautiful 
stranger and her child both dead* 
The poor aunt, stricken by the 
blow, utterly refused all comfort, 
and for a time the family was fearful 
for her reason. This humble home 
was now made up of the good man, 
his wife and two hardy sons, both 
sailor-men. It seems that only a 
short time before her death this 
lonely little lady called one of these 
sons apart from the house and, giv- 
ing into his care a package, pledged 
him, in case of her death, to deliver 
it into the hands of the rightful 
owner, also instructing him that 
among her effects he would find 
sufficient means to make the neces- 

6i 



sary journey to England* This 
worthy cousin faithfully fulfilled the 
trust of his lamented relative by 
seeking out, at his earliest opportu- 
nity, the rightful owner of the pre- 
cious package — none other than the 
young Earl of Arundel. Well this 
haughty nobleman knew that this 
lovely girl had been his own lawful 
wife. As subsequent disclosures re- 
vealed, the couple had been secretly 
united some time before her coming 
to America ; when it became neces- 
sary for her condition to be con- 
cealed, the only thing that could be 
done was to send her, secretly, to 
her mother's sister, in whom he 
reposed great faith, with the deter- 
mination that when he came into 



62 



his inheritance he should most joy- 
fully claini her as his honored wife, 
but, for the present, do everything in 
his power to add to her happiness, 
although, in the meantime, all must 
be kept secret for fear of disinhcrit- 
ance. Never did faithful husband 
receive such news with greater dis- 
may* Losing no time, he made his 
way to this country, shedding bitter 
tears of sorrow at her grave, and 
wondering, in his gratitude, what 
recompense could he make for those 
who had so tenderly sheltered her. 
In his will the noble woman who 
made that hazardous journey to 
afford aid to his wife was remem- 
bered generously. The town also 
was made a bequest and the family 

63 



of the taithful aunt amply provided 
for. Pity to relate^ how, from lack 
of enterprise or some similar cause, 
these bequests w^ere never recovered. 
From the lips of the very old people, 
who, were they living, would far 
exceed the century and quarter mark, 
this story was handed down to us. 
And they also used to tell of the 
many, many years in which the 
children of the early settlers would 
go out of their way to pay a visit to 
the lonely grave of the fair Lady 
Arundel, 





THE GOLDEN-ROD. 



To comfort man, to whisper hope 
Whene'er his faith is dim ; 

For whoso careth for the flo^vcrs 
Will much more care for him. 



OMETIME, perchance, 
your inclination will lead 
you to the sunny ship-yard 
in the vicinity of the " old church.'' 
If you look carefully perhaps you 
may find traces of a one-time cellar 
where stood a solemn-looking resi- 
dence in by-gone days* This was, 
in its time, the home of a man of 
great wisdom, who had not neg- 
lected the talents so generously 
bestowed by the all-wise Father. 
Rather, had he parted with the friv- 
olous and alluring pleasures of life 
65 



that he might the oftener commune 
with the great teacher, Nature, No 
man ever lived who possessed a 
deeper interest in the knowlege of 
plant life. Not many years now 
passed, one might meet those who 
had availed themselves of this bright 
man^s instructions. 

This wise man, it is said, could 
tell us of the forty species, with their 
varieties, of the beautiful golden-rod 
which he could, quite easily, locate 
in the immediate country surround- 
ing our settlement. As a result of 
this attempt, by one not mentioned, 
the supposition will be — when the 
pleasure-seeker has found the twen- 
ty-third or twenty-fourth distinct 
kind of this weed he will suddenly 

66 



experience a new-felt interest in the 
*^rich man's flower/' the orchid, 
also said to be a habitat of these 
parts ; by the time his diligent search 
has revealed the hiding-place of the 
second species of this rare gift of 
Nature (rare here, but in other parts 
only a common flower of the for- 
est) — that, with his wet feet and 
tired frame, this seeking out our 
great Creator through Nature is 
attended with just a little too much 
toil and exertion for one in pursuit 
of rest and recreation* 

Not every one has heard of the 
value of our cherished golden-rod 
to the Indian in other days. In the 
first place, among them it was their 
national flower, its emblem being, 
67 r 



as near as can be given in English^ 
^* Faithful/^ since it never failed 
them. Whatever herb or plant 
proved tardy or absent, this hardy- 
North American specimen never 
forgot to put in appearance at the 
proper time* Again, one variety- 
entered very largely into their lini- 
ments for the healing of wounds, 
and was held so sacred on this 
account that the children of the 
tribes were never allowed to pluck 
the plant for any other purpose. 
Remember, the red man put as 
much dependence in his drink of 
tea as does his tired white brother, 
home for the night from his office or 
manufactory; to him it was just as 
much the drink which would invig- 

68 



H 



w 



•po 





orate but not intoxicate as now. 
From whence came this tea ? From 
the leaves of the golden-rod, and a 
fine drink it was, no after effects 
from this tea, just the promise of 
sweet sleep and quieted nerves — 
that was alL Once more, it was 
the only flower used in the burial of 
their dead. These simple children 
of the forest knew not that flowers 
were the emblem of the resurrection. 
Why, then, should they single out 
this particular variety, and this only ? 
Wait patiently and you shall learn. 
The Indian, as all know, had his 
own idea of the '^ great hereafter." 
For him it was the '' happy hunting- 
ground'' with only the one thing 
lacking — the beautiful golden-rod, 
69 



For this reason and no other^ these 
plants^ roots and all^ were always 
included in the last outfit of the 
poor Indian* 



"A worthless plant, a flaunting weed ! 

Abundant splendors are too cheap." 
Neighbor, not so ! Unless, indeed, 

You w^ould from heaven the sunsets s'weep. 
And count as mean the common day. 

Meseems the w^orld has not so much 
Superfluous beauty that ^ve may 

Blight anything with scornful touch. 




70 




THE FIRST DOMESTIC CAT. 

I AY the writer remind the 
reader of the time when 
the white man first made 
his abiding-place on this portion of 
the New England soil^ and found, 
with no surprise, that he had pre- 
ceded the domestic animal by some 
little space of time. To be sure, 
there were various wild animals, — 
the bear, the wolf, the lynx, the 
common wild cat, and even the 
beaver, if you please, was no stran- 
ger to this soil. Then the harmless 
and still more prolific creatures yet 
found, though not in large numbers, 
would almost trip you at every step. 
And the feathered tribe — Oh ! ye 
earnest disciple of the rifle and shot- 
71 



gun, could you, suddenly, be carried 
back through the lapse of years to an 
early spring morn in this olden time, 
what wonders in this line of game 
would you behold ! From accounts 
remembered, as coming from the 
lips of old people, concerning the 
immense collection of feathers from 
one season^s game, one can plainly 
form an estimate of the vast number 
of flocks of game-birds which, for- 
merly, frequented the coast of Ken- 
nebunkport* 

^' Aunt Kattern ** had a story, often 
told to the delight of the children, 
explaining the advent of the first 
domestic cat ever landing on New 
England shores. A fisherman lover, 
returning from England by the 
72 



shortest passage, and wishing to 
further ingratiate himself into the 
affections of his buxom sweetheart, 
managed, not without much trouble 
and vexation, to reach her home at 
Cleave's Cove with a fine black cat, 
the first ever seen in this settlement. 
Great was the delight of the family 
at the reception of this rare present. 
The father happened to be absent 
at the time of the arrival, so their 
pleasure in the gift knew no check. 
Later, on his return, he expressed 
his displeasure over the offering by 
sternly forbidding its entrance to his 
house. "Who,'' he said, "could 
expect luck to follow the home shel- 
tering an animal of this description, 
for did not Satan himself betake the 



73 



guise of the black cat ? ^^ However^ 
the tears of an only daughter pre- 
vailed, inasmuch as his catship was 
allowed to forage for himself in 
the forests surrounding the peaceful 
home. Within a year of his arrival, 
a fisherman at one of the '^stages** 
farther east, now known as Turbot^s 
Creek, fell sick with a disease known 
as the ** shingles/* Now, the fate 
of the poor cat is forever sealed. 
What better cure did these ignorant 
people know for this malady than 
the application of the warm hide of 
the black cat ? 

Another year rolled on and again 
the lover returned, bearing this time 
as pretty a tortoise tabby as ever 
was seen. Shortly after the arrival 

74 



she presented her doting mistress 
with four beautiful kittens, among 
them a black one. So great an 
event was this to the infant settle- 
ments that the news soon spread all 
along the coast limit, and tradition 
tells of a visit from a fisherman and 
his whole family, by means of boats, 
all the way from York, just for the 
pleasure of a glimpse at the house- 
hold pet and her lively family. 




75 




THE SWEET SINGER, 

ROM the time when we 
children, by various modes 
of stratagem, managed to 
escape the vigilance of our mothers 
and wend our way to the ^^Old 
Locks ^^ to watch with interest the 
exciting but weary method of bring- 
ing down river the beautiful ship so 
lately launched at the ^^ Landing/^ 
two miles above, down to the pres- 
ent day, this enchanting spot has 
been the trysting place not only of 
lovers, but ever including all periods 
and conditions of life. Just this side 
of the picturesque grove is noticed a 
a pleasant plot, facing down the 
river. I never pass this little clear- 
ing, but the story I am about to 
75 



H 




relate comes^ like a dream, to my 
memory. Just across the little cove 
from this point can be seen, very 
plainly, the old '*Tristam Perkins^' 
house, so famous in the history of 
our town. In the owner^s lifetime 
he took very great pride in the cul- 
tivation of berries, fruits, etc. My 
mother had sent me over to pur- 
chase currants, to serve as dessert 
for expected company, and I had 
gladly offered to assist in picking 
them, secretly hoping that in the 
meantime I should be able to learn 
from his lips one of his interesting 
stories of the olden time. Somehow 
he didn^t seem inclined to say much 
this morning, and the pail was fast 
filling with the luscious fruit» 



" Mr* Perkins, they say you were 
a great singer in your day/^ This 
was enough. I had touched the 
responsive chord* 

*^WelI, I suppose I was, if all 
accounts are true, but this makes 
me think of a story of that piece of 
land over there/^ pointing in the 
direction of the bluff* ^^You pay 
good attention to what I tell you 
and you can make a good composi- 
tion out of it for your next exercise 
day at school/^ 

You had better believe that pail 
was hung on the fence in a hurry, 
for I must not lose one word* 

** To begin with,^^ he says, ^^ there 
are many incidents of the past long 
since forgotten (more's the pity) of 



this ancient old section, which, could 
they any way have been preserved, 
would have been of untold interest 
in the history of events/' Then he 
went on with the story, ^^ Right 
over there on the part nearest the 
hollow once stood the rude home of 
an old-time fisherman. There is 
no cause for wonderment why he 
pitched his tent here, for everything 
combined to make it the ideal abode 
for one of his calling. I never 
wearied of hearing my grandmother 
relate the story of the tragedy which 
befell this poor family. Driven 
nearly to desperation by their im- 
poverished condition at home, they, 
not too willingly, set out for the 
home beyond the ocean, about which 

79 



many vague reports lately had 
reached their ears* So the next we 
know of them is at the snug little 
hut near the site of the * Old Locks/ 
If they were dreary and homesick 
for the old associations^ they still 
had the solace of hoping to so im- 
prove their fortunes as to be able, 
one day, to return to the haunts of 
their youth and there again enjoy 
the sweet companionship of loved 
ones so reluctantly left in ^Merrie 
England/ Time passed on and the 
efforts of these brave people met 
with such encouraging results as to 
partially reconcile them to this wil- 
derness exile, and they were already 
half induced to found a permanent 
home just here in this new land. 
80 



With its abundant resources^ their 
little ones might escape the possibility 
of the poverty with which they both 
were once so familiar. All this time 
the Indians seemed well pleased 
over this invasion; in fact, they 
realized not that the coming of these 
fishermen betokened their downfall, 
the robbing them of their rightful 
possessions, and all the other evils 
which have followed the ingress of 
the white man, — but this is a digres- 
sion. At the time of this story you 
would find many an Indian settle- 
ment scattered up and down this 
romantic river, and of late these 
neighbors had become more or less 
annoying in the way of stealing the 
good man's wealth of fish he was 

Si 



so diligently accumulating^ ready to 
be forwarded home later to procure 
the needed comforts for his little 
family. Unfortunately, this man 
possessed a violent temper, so when 
at last he caught a well-grown 
Indian lad in the act of robbing his 
flakes, he lost all control of himself, 
fell upon the thief and beat him in 
an unmerciful manner. From this 
very moment the little wife^s fears 
were aroused for their safety, no 
longer was her sweet voice heard 
trilling the plaintive airs learned so 
long ago in her old home; but after 
a day or two of suspense things 
began to assume their old cast, the 
Indians apparently giving no atten- 
tion to the affair whatever. Full 
82 



soon the horror-stricken fisherman 
learned that they were only awaiting 
their time, for not long after, return- 
ing in the early dawn with the dug- 
out boat well laden with his catch 
of fish, what hideous vision is this 
to meet his gaze, — no vision, how- 
ever, but a terrible reality, — the 
smoking ruins of his home, the 
mangled forms of his wife and 
babies, Akhough the Indians pro- 
fessed great regrets at the time, still 
there is left no manner of doubt of 
the crime resting at their feet, for, 
very soon following this murder, 
the family of the Indian boy disap- 
peared by one of the many paths 
leading northward through the 
forest/' 

83 



In concluding this story I must 
mention the difficulty of obtaining a 
story from the old people without a 
touch of the supernatural* ^^ Uncle 
Tristam^^ was a believer in ghosts* 
No one could persuade him from 
the conviction that even his own 
habitation was one of the haunted, 
so I listened patiently while he told 
me of the years that the locality of 
the fisherman^s home was annually 
visited by the spirits of the butchered 
family, the sweet voice of the wife 
being clearly distinguished at certain 
times of the year by the boatmen 
passing up and down the river. 



: S4 



-^^m-^..^^'- 








^ V' aV- 




THE TRIPLETS. 

OW take a walk with me 
this pleasant morning and 
I will show you a roman- 
tic spot, where once was the home 
of an early settler in whose family 
happened an event well worth 
handing down to posterity. It was 
autumn, the corn crop had almost 
proved a complete failure and direst 
poverty was felt on every hand. It 
is in just such times as these that 
the nobler element gains full sway ; 
acts of self-sacrifice and generous 
sympathy rendered each to the other 
often cause those who have passed 
through these '* breakers of life'' to 
rejoice that this was the means of 
bringing out all that was worthy in 
85 



their friends and neighbors and unit- 
ing them in a common cause. This 
abode about which the story is to 
be told would hardly answer for a 
home for a respectable family of 
swine at the present day, but we 
are very sure the occupants had 
found the true philosophy of life, — 
contentment with their lot and cour- 
age to endure and wait* At the first 
snow-fall their supply of meal was 
just two quarts* On no account 
must this be drawn upon for every- 
day use ; there must be something 
reserved for the emergency* What 
do you suppose was the ^^food 
stronghold ^^ for this poor family, 
with winter just upon them, and 
every omen pointing to a season of 

86 



unusual severity ? Why, the clam- 
tlats, to be sure, and of excellent 
quality were the clams in those days, 
and withal an abundant supply 
along the coast* In the course of 
the winter the worthy dame of the 
household presented her liege lord 
with triplets, the first event of the 
kind ever occurring in New England 
and, for more than a century, the 
last. Even though the cruel north 
wind often drove the treacherous 
snow through the stray crevices, 
until, perchance, it found its way to 
the couch of the mother, still these 
little fellows grew and throve, not 
faltering when, in her extremity, the 
mother was compelled to help nour- 
ish them with the broth which came 

87 



from the clams roasted on their 
smouldering fires. And the glad 
springtime found them healthy, rosy 
and well-grown. It will be of some 
interest to many to have recorded 
the names of these tiny treasures. 
About this period it was not uncom- 
mon for a child to bear for his given 
name a whole passage in Scripture, 
so when ^^ Great Expectations/' 
^^Wonderful Deliverance/' and 
^^ Little to Depend Upon'' were 
chosen, after much discussion and 
delay, one might be well satisfied 
that, for the time in which they 
lived, their names were not only 
appropriate but very modest indeed. 
We can follow the path of these 
people but little farther, for a maiden 

88 



aunt having died, leaving to the 
nephew a considerable property, 
they, soon after the time of my story, 
left for '* Old England,'' never again 
to be heard from by those they left 
behind in this coming '' Land of the 
Free/' 




89 




TALE OF 
MY GRANDMOTHER^S GOOSE. 

IBOUT a mile east of the 
** Tavern on the Hill ^^ in 
Kennebunk was the happy 
home of my great-great-grand- 
mother. It had not been with them, 
as with many of the pioneers, that 
they had found a spot already 
cleared, with traces of corn-fields 
once carefully cared for by hardy 
squaws, for the fearless Yorkshire 
husband had redeemed every inch 
of this fertile land from the then 
majestic forest. These sturdy Eng- 
lish people found little time, in their 
struggle for existence, to consciously 
admire Nature, yet when their foot- 
steps guided them to this quiet 
90 



locality they felt a sort of a serene 
calm pervading the place that caused 
them to choose their home just here* 
Truly there must have been a vein 
of the artistic in their natures, for 
who could pass, even at this day, 
without casting an admiring glance? 
Here these good people raised their 
family. The father tilled the ground 
as only the early settler knew how. 
The mother cared, as best she could, 
for the round little family. From 
the ashes of the maple she made her 
soap ; from the sap of this same tree 
she obtained her sugar. The care- 
fully-tended flax-fields produced her 
linen. The sheep were held in as 
much regard as the children, for on 
their backs the thrifty housewife 



91 



^y^. 



saw the clothing for the family* But 
the especial pride of these ^^ grand- 
mothers/^ however^ were their geese^ 
and what luck used to attend their 
efforts* You know, at this early 
period, the raising of this branch of 
the feathered tribe was about the 
only way of obtaining comfortable 
beds* Let a farmer^s wife to-day 
attempt this industry, and as a result 
you will probably see, along in June, 
an important gander and a proud 
goose with one sickly gosling wad- 
dling between them* 

Well, to go on with my story of 
" grandmother's goose,'' — not far 
from their home was the snug home 
of the geese; indeed, it was con- 
structed with far more care than the 
92 






home of the family. The goose 
mother had fulfilled her mission^ — 
the last egg of her litter had been 
laid and she was now contentedly 
" setting '' on the cozy nest so will- 
ingly provided for her, while the 
father goose was proving himself 
the very best of sentinels by con- 
stantly standing in the goose-house 
door, watching this way and that, 
ever on the alert for invaders. It is 
said that American wives are the 
best used of any country that bears 
a flag, I, for one, sincerely believe 
it, and I never meet a father goose 
without a desire for his portrait, life- 
size, simply because he is such a 
reminder of the good husband of 
our well-beloved country. 

93 



In this little home all was peace 
and harmony ; the Indians had been 
gone for a long time now and the 
white men were having strong 
hopes that they had seen the last of 
their troubles with them in these 
parts, at least, when late one night, 
while they were sweetly resting on 
their beds, came the dreaded sound 
of the war-whoop, the signal that 
the battle was on again. Did these 
brave people quail? Not a bit of it. 
The husband simply remarked that 
it was early in the season for them, 
and at once took means for the 
defense of his family* This man 
knew that the red man was deadly 
afraid of fire-arms, nothing would 
cause one of them to face the mouth 

94 



of an old musket. So he began 
firing, to warn them that he had in 
his possession the dreaded match- 
lock, which at this time always kept 
them at bay, for fear of losing a man 
in this way, — the Indian believing 
sincerely at this remote time that 
whoever among them lost his life at 
the mouth of the gun of the white 
man was eternally debarred from 
their ''happy hunting grounds." 
They passed the night in safety in 
spite of the Indians, but when morn- 
ing dawned the father directed that 
hasty preparations be made for their 
departure to the garrison, now the 
old tavern house on the hill. The 
journey must be made by way of 
^'blazed trees," for there was no 



95 



road» The mile or more was passed 
with no adventure* The only re- 
gret the mother felt was leaving her 
cherished goose. Before she left she 
provided the geese with plenty of 
food until such a time as she should 
return, for she secretly resolved that, 
Indians or no Indians, she would 
look after those geese. When the 
day came for the goslings to arrive, 
although disobeying orders, she stole 
quietly from the garrison, entering 
fearlessly on her mile walk intent 
only on securing her geese, if lucky 
she should find them undisturbed. 
When the distance was half passed^ 
right before her in the path was a 
mother bear and her two cubs, — 
now what was to be done? She 
96 



did the only thing she could do, 
shook her home-spun apron with a 
vengeance, and the bear, with 
motherly instinct, fearful for the 
safety of her young, disappeared in 
the bushes, and the brave woman 
pushed on, with bears ahead of her 
and Indians around her, ever intent 
on her purpose, the recovery of her 
geese and their family. As luck 
would have it, she found the geese 
all right — why the Indians had not 
molested them no one knows — every 
2§^g had brought out a sturdy gos- 
ling excepting one. With the goose 
under her arm and the goslings in a 
home-made basket, with the gander 
following and bristling behind, she 
reached the haven of safety amid 



97 



the cheers of the garrison. This 
story is every word true, just as it 
happened, and I will state in con- 
clusion that although these women 
of our ancestry were brave and 
women of circumstance, we to-day 
produce just as noble a type of 
womankind as then. There is no 
** new woman/^ — everything else is 
new or improved. There can be 
no change in this direction. In the 
Latin we find two words for man, — 
''Homo,'' the human being, ''Vir,'' 
the war hero. No such distinction 
is needed for my sex, however; the 
one word, "Femina,'' a woman, 
embraces it all. 



r ./^ 




98 

/2^ 






-w^W-T** ' ■^'- rs.^^^p> 




HOW ''AUNT REBECCA" 
KEPT THE SAVAGES AT BAY. 

FTEN have I passed a 
knoll^ on the direct road to 
Walker^s Mills^ where 
happened, nearly two centuries ago, 
a thrilling affair, the account of 
which is well worth being repeated 
to successive generations for all time 
to come. 

It is with fear and trembling I 
include this story, for not many 
years ago the same narrative, in the 
main, appeared in some magazine 
or paper, which I do not now call 
to mind. The facts of the story 
must have been suggested to the 
author by some one who had lived 
in these parts, for we surely claim 
L.tfC. 99 



the honor of its occurrence, there- 
fore I dare to add it to my collection 
in this little volume* 

It was March, the month when 
the thrifty women always made 
their soap. There was many a 
reason why this particular time was 
chosen. In the first place, after the 
long and tedious winter, the collec- 
tion of ashes was very considerable ; 
again, the brooks and hollows were 
busy taking away the great deposits 
of snow and ice in this form. The 
skilled women well knew that the 
water formed from snow was the 
very best in assisting the soap ** to 
come,'^ and this indeed was no 
whim. While not a chemist lives 
who can explain, it is nevertheless 



true that there is a vast difference 
between the liquid that comes from 
the beautiful snow and plain rain- 
water that falls from the clouds* 
All the preparations for this one 
great event of the year had been 
made. The day preceding ''the 
mash'' (which must be about so 
much Chaldaic to the present gen- 
eration) had all worked like a 
charm^ and as the shadows of even- 
ing approached in the little clearing 
the year's supply of this article was 
nearly completed and the whole 
attempt crowned with success. 

I may take time here to explain 
that this homestead was made up 
of the shrewd grandmother, a maiden 
aunt, the married daughter and her 



family, consisting of a husband and 
children nearly grown down to the 
** infant in arms/^ On these busy 
days the children must look out for 
each other as best they could, — little 
regard was paid to the ^* outgoings '^ 
or ** incomings ** of childhood in 
these days of yore. 

The sun had nearly lost itself in 
the west when a little lad of the 
family rushed to the house in a 
state of great excitement, explaining 
as best he could that while playing 
in the underbrush, not far below the 
house, he had seen the most ugly 
face peering from the bushes and 
then disappear before a good view 
could hardly be taken. This was 
enough; all these women of the 



o 

H 

CO 




household knew what that face 
meant^ — the Indians had again re- 
turned among them. Not that they 
were much disturbed for their own 
safety, since this particular house 
was one of the kind then often found 
which of itself was a sort of a 
garrison. Every one knows that 
neighbors then often meant miles of 
separation, and the garrisons were 
not too convenient, so now and 
then a house would be built unusu- 
ally strong, with port-holes at the 
corners and a lookout over the main 
entrance, so constructed that hot 
water or something worse could be 
thrown on the head of the savage 
in case of too close an invasion. It 
was just such a house as this on 



which my story hinges. Every 
family of this neighborhood knew 
that^ in case of a sudden attack, this 
was the haven to which they would 
flee for protection. 

The last kettle of soap was already 
bubbling over the fire in the gener- 
ous fireplace, and the porridge had 
been set aside on the hearth, prepar- 
atory for the evening meal, while in 
the ashes was slowly roasting the 
precious potato, in anticipation of 
the return from the distant grist-mill 
of father and the eldest son. Now 
their fears were wholly turned to 
these loved ones ; perhaps the Indians 
had already waylaid them and their 
mangled forms might even now be 
lying in the forest, food for the hun- 



104 



gry wolves which infested this part 
of the country. But for a time this 
anxious household must turn their 
efforts to the protection of their little 
stronghold^ knowing the ways of 
the savage so well* Hasty prepara- 
tions were made for their reception 
when the attack should be made. 
They did not have to wait long. In 
this particular raid their plan, from 
the first, was to ^^fire^' the house; 
but the women, equal to the emer- 
gency, were nobly keeping them at 
bay and there was no question but 
theirs would be the final victory. 
After a short period of exciting 
defense the Indians retreated. Well 
the keepers of the little fortress knew 
the meaning of this movement. The 
105 



next attack would be the ** battering- 
ram " at the entrance, 

** Now^ girls, let^s make ready for 
them. Rebecca, take yourself in a 
hurry to the lookout. Prudence, 
you stand ready to pass the buckets 
and I will bale the hot soap from the 
kettle. Benjamin, you keep a sharp 
watch at the eastern port-hole, and 
Mary, you have the bullets handy.^* 

So this grand old ancestor had 
not long, for here they are already 
with the huge log, borne at the door 
end by four or five of the burliest 
among them. 

'' Wait till I give the word/' cau- 
tions the grandmother ^^Here, 
Prudence, pass up that crock ; now, 
Rebecca, fill it from this bucket; 

io6 



CO 

c 
3 
3 



T3 
o 




have all in readiness, and when 
they attempt the battering down of 
the door give them hot soap quick 
and fast/^ 

All these instructions were obeyed 
to the letter and such yells as fol- 
lowed their scampering retreat were 
seldom heard. Never did swift- 
running Indian run as now, and the 
little household was soon left alone 
with their anxiety for the safety of 
the father and son. A short time 
after the retreat of the enemy the 
male members of the family returned, 
a little belated on account of the bad 
paths of March, greatly astounded 
by the harrowing news awaiting 
them, for, unaccountable as it may 
seem, they had seen neither *^ hide 
107 



nor hair ^* of an Indian on their long, 
wearisome journey. 

In conclusion I must ask indul- 
gence while I tell you that ever after 
the Indians avoided that habitation 
as they would a pestilence, supposing 
the hot soap must be the work of 
evil spirits, and all white men who 
could reach that little stronghold in 
times of danger felt as safe and 
secure as though not an Indian 
remained on this side of the great 
ocean. 




io8 



'■a 




THE OLD FALLS. 

EACHER, would you like 
to go with us to-night to 
the Old Falls May-flower- 
ing?'' so said a bright-eyed little 
maiden^ at the close of a tedious 
afternoon session, so long ago, that 
teacher herself was only a demure 
little girl, scarcely past the time-mark 
of sixteen summers. To her these 
** Falls " had such an interest, for 
did she not see still the clearing 
made so many, many years ago by 
the faithful squaws. All the tradi- 
tions point to this sequestered place 
as once the seat of the largest Indian 
settlement to be found in this portion 
of the country. Also it corresponded 
with that period when the fishermen 
109 



first began to make homes for them- 
selves on the coast bordering the 
same section. So this village grew 
and grew until the women of the 
clans could no longer drag wood 
from such a distance to keep the 
camp-fires bright^ and one night 
every man, woman and child for- 
sook this beautiful spot for a home 
where their fuel could be more 
easily obtained, leaving the fertile 
hillsides with the sunny corn-fields 
for the occupation of some future 
settler in the years to come. For a 
long time it remained the trysting 
place of wild animals and birds of 
various kinds, until one day two 
English brothers, seeking a locality 
where could be operated a crude 



saw-mill^ decided this to be the place 
sought and without delay removed 
their families thither, bringing with 
them a third family, who had been 
close friends in Old England, For 
several years they found their home 
here, living at peace and hannony 
with each other, knowing but little 
of the doings of the outside world, 
friendly with the natives, happy and 
contented. With the dawning of a 
new spring the relations with the 
Indians seemed not too encourag- 
ing. The cause had seemingly been 
slight, but nevertheless the few 
scattering settlers began to appre- 
hend great fears for their safety. 
It was now the families at the 
"Falls" removed to the edge of 



New Hampshire, the three families 
remaining in company as before* 
Very romantic is the future of two 
descendants of these families driven 
about by the many vicissitudes of 
life. 

Long years passed on, — m a 
family who claimed their ancestry 
from these English brothers was a 
likely daughter, with whom a son 
descended from the third family fell 
deeply in love* The young lady's 
father sternly objected to the lover, 
for reason of suspected intemperate 
habits. The dutiful daughter finally 
yielded to the importunities of her 
parent, not without many a sigh for 
her lost love, but because this old- 
time daughter firmly believed that 



no luck would follow a marriage 
not sanctioned by a father's blessing. 
Not long after, the young man's 
family, English-like, took to roving, 
finally settling near the extreme 
western limit of ^^The Ohio,'' the 
term generally applied to the West 
in those remote times. 

The faithful young woman, after 
long months of sorrow, was finally 
able to crush down her devotion for 
her early lover and married the man 
of her father's approval, who only 
lived about six years to enjoy the 
companionship of this sweet woman. 
Years this lady remained a widow, 
beloved by alL Then her family 
decided to improve their fortunes by 
going ** West," by the usual mode 

'13 



'W.^1 



of travel adopted in the early part of 
the last century* Of the fatigue of 
the long and wearisome journey 
nothing need be said, until one day 
the little widow, walking cheerfully 
along after the ** prairie schooner/' 
to help relieve the monotony fell to 
musing on the scenes of her girl- 
hood* Of late the discarded lover 
of her youth was always in her 
dreams, whatever she might do to 
dispel them. Suddenly she awak- 
ened from her reflections to find the 
wagon out of sight. After hurrying 
forward for some time she became 
fearful of having lost her way; 
great was her relief to see, in the 
distance, a comfortable house appear 
in view. Her gentle knock was 
114 



'V, 



^ 



4 




answered by a dignified gentleman 
of middle age. After the first glance 
each was too mystified to utter a 
word — but only for a brief moment 
— for in the quiet traveler the lover 
recognized his sweetheart of long 
ago. 

A few more words and the story 
is told. The lady had walked 
straight to the home of her first love, 
now for some years a widower. 
Within three weeks from the time 
of this remarkable meeting this lady 
was installed as mistress of the 
substantial Western farmhouse. A 
very prominent business man of 
one of the rival cities of the West is 
a son of this marriage, their only 
child. We often hear that ''truth 

"5 



is stranger than fiction." However 
this may be, the story is a reality, 
and the names are withheld only 
for fear of giving offense to parties 
interested. 




--W^^-itUlllii 



Ii6 



THE VESSEL 
WHAT LAUNCHED HERSELF/' 

HERE is probably no river 
of its size in the State of 
Maine that has borne upon 
its waters so many craft of different 
kinds as the Kennebunk, Its green 
banks were settled by a race of men 
who naturally turned to the sea for 
a livelihood. 

Near the ^^ upper tide water " the 
shipyards were numerous^ and it 
was at one of these places that the 
unlooked-for launching took place. 
The vessel was about one hundred 
and fifty tons, a large craft for those 
days, and was planked and partly 
finished outside. The painters had 
removed some of the shores or sup- 
117 



ports and did not properly replace 
them, and that night occurred a 
heavy spring rain, which melting 
the ice under the remaining shores 
so loosened them that the vessel fell 
on her side and ** took ^' to the river. 
The next morning was very foggy, 
and at about six o^cIock a. m,, when 
the workmen began to gather for 
their day^s work, one was observed 
standing on the ** brow stage ** and 
gazing into vacancy. No vessel! 
nothing left but the chips and debris 
usually surrounding a new craft. 
He summoned his companions, and 
going to the water^s edge they could 
dimly see through the fog the faint 
outlines of the ^^runaway,^^ across 
the river, high and dry, but reclining 

ii8 



?o 




* 



on her side, apparently resting after 
her sliding experience. She was 
soon surrounded by workmen, who 
finished one side as she lay, and 
with infinite labor turned the other 
side up and so finished their work. 
She was then launched, apparently 
none the worse for her nocturnal 
adventure. Her top was finished at 
the wharf. 

Women in those days, as in our 
own times, must have played an 
important part in local affairs, for 
this craft had a queer name, 
*' Mary's Pantaloons.'' The model 
from which she was built can be 
seen to-day, in a good state of pres- 
ervation, with that name on the 
** label end." Neither history nor 
119 



tradition records the floating of that 
name on the high seas, but if so the 
answer to ** Ship, ahoy ** must have 
caused laughter and surprise to the 
hailing vessels* Perhaps — who 
knows ? — that may have been the 
small beginning of the ^^ woman's 
rights ^' to don the unmentionables* 
What they hoisted to masthead to 
designate the craft's name to inquir- 
ing minds is a question on which 
tradition is silent, and we will be* 

A few rods above this locality a 
slip was built from the brow of the 
hill to the water's edge, and used 
for sliding lumber from the banks 
to scows that conveyed their loads 
down the river to vessels loading 
for the West Ipdia trade* A famous 



cow owned by Captain John Bourne 
was pastured in this vicinity, and 
coming one morning to the slip 
attempted to cross. At the foot of 
the slip lay a scow waiting for a 
load, and the first installment to that 
end was the cow, in a demoralized 
condition, on the bottom of the scow. 
This second impromptu launching 
was a finished product. 

Speaking of vessels built about 
this time (1814), they must have 
been the pride of their owners. It 
could not have been for their shape 
or comeliness, but for a liking for a 
craft that would ''walk the water" 
like a thing of life. A vessel was 
built about this time in the Gilpat- 
rick yard, near Wonder Brook, 



and named the ''Old Favorite/* 
Tradition says she was a lucky 
boat and did well for her owners, 
A year or two afterward another 
was built in the rear of the McCuI- 
lock house and called the ''New 
Favorite/* Whether she was the 
equal of her sister is an unanswered 
question* Nothing remains of the 
old shipyards but the site; also of 
the men who made these places 
busy hives of industry but very few 
remain. 





The Fishermen. 




CLIPPINGS. 

MONO the well-known 
characters of the early- 
part of the century was 
one whom we will call Jotham 
Jones* Jotham was equally addicted 
to the intoxicating cup and to the 
composition of impromptu verse. 
One evening he was visiting the 
principal grocery store, where, in 
those ante-prohibition days, West 
India rum was a prime staple* 
Jotham's stock of ready cash was 
quite exhausted, yet he longed 
ardently for another sip of his favor- 
ite beverage, so, approaching the 
storekeeper with his most insinu- 
ating smile, he made this modest 

suggestion : — 

123 



Mr. Moody, if you will 

Let me have another gill, 

I declare, by sin and sorrow, 

I'll fetch you in the money to-morrow. 

It need hardly be added that the gill 
was forthcoming. 

On another occasion^ being asked 
his opinion of a new house of wor- 
ship then in process of erection, he 
promptly replied : — 

A very nice church 

And a very nice steeple, 
A very nice minister. 

But a hard lot of people. 

The visits of the Muse were not 
confined, however, to Kennebunk- 
port, for the writer has always been 
told that a disconsolate widower in 
the adjacent town of Lyman placed 
over the grave of his departed part- 
ner the following inscription : — 
124 



Be she dead? and am she gone ? 
And is I left here all alone ? 
O cruel Death ! that wast inclined 
To take she 'fore and leave me 'hind. 



He was^ perhaps, of a more sen- 
timental nature than another worthy 
of the same town, who while taking 
a walk over his farm with his new 
pastor remarked, with a pensive air, 
as he waved his hand toward a little 
graveyard, ^'Fve got two or three 
real good women a-Iayin' there/' 

The New England virtue of thrift 
flourished here probably as well as 
anywhere* One of the natives went 
to the village to buy a pair of boots 
for his younger brother, a growing 
boy, who would be well fitted by 
number sevens. At evening he was 

125 



seen returning, bearing in triumph 
a huge pair of cowhide elevens* 

** You see/^ he explained, ** I found 
they was askin^ jest as much to the 
store for the sevens as they was for 
the ^levens, so I thought I might's 
well git my money's wuth/' 

And the poor fellow had to drag 
the ponderous number ^^'levens" 
around all summer. 

Sectarianism was often intense 
and bitter in those early days, but 
Christian charity was not altogether 
lacking, for we know of one good 
old soul who was wont to affirm 
that she ^^ didn't believe it made any 
difference what abomination any- 
body belonged to if they was only 
good." 

126 



o 




A THANKSGIVING ANECDOTE. 

Then praise for the past and the present ■we sing. 
And, trustful, await what the future may bring; 
Let doubt and repining be banished away, 
And the •whole of our lives be a Thanksgiving Day. 

jHIS festival, which began 
with the earliest settlement 
of New England, has now 
become so peculiarly appropriate, as 
an expression of gratitude to God, 
that the day is little likely to be 
superseded by any set apart, not 
even our much-honored Memorial 
Day. As each succeeding year 
brings about events which must lay 
a greater claim to the historian's 
annals, it is feared that the whole 
story of the origin of Thanksgiving 
Day, as taught a generation or two 
127 



passed by^ will eventually not find a 
place in the histories of the youngest 
nation. To me it is the prettiest 
story recorded^ — how these Pilgrim 
Fathers^ ever mindful of the bless- 
ings they received from the ** Giver 
of all Good/^ set apart a day for 
" thanksgiving and prayer to God ^* 
for His watchful care over them in 
preserving their lives through the 
year and in giving them an abun- 
dant harvest. 

But mine is no history^ only a 
few reminiscences, so I will tell what 
happened in a little neighborhood 
many years ago. There was once 
a time when there lived a toil-worn 
widow in the neighborhood known 
as ^^Saco Road.^^ With all her 
128 




might and main she struggled to 
keep together her little brood, but 
many a time grim Want would 
loiter at her door, let her do as best 
she might to banish him. The lot 
of this good woman had ever been 
a hard one» Wedded in her earliest 
youth to the lover of her choice, she 
had, too soon, found that the staff 
upon which she leaned was nothing 
better than the rotten bamboo. His 
persistent habits of intemperance, 
added to slothfulness and lack of 
enterprise, very quickly brought 
him to be only one more burden 
added instead of the helpmeet which 
Heaven designed* Thus matters 
grew worse and worse, until this 
wretched man, greatly to the relief 
129 



of the community m which he lived, 
returning homeward from one of his 
drunken orgies, deliberately walked 
through DurrelPs Bridge, then in 
course of repair, and by so doing 
performed for his family the greatest 
kindness that could ever be credited 
to his memory. 

Although beyond the power of 
neighbors to always keep this poor 
woman above want, still there must 
be one day of the year in which 
full and plenty should be found in 
her house* So as the day appointed 
for Thanksgiving approached, each 
neighbor vied with the other in their 
provision for the widow. 

Then there came a year when 
the praise-deserving mother thought 



how happy she would be if it were 
in her power to prepare a Thanks- 
giving feast at her own home; that 
her children, in after years, might 
remember that they had seen mother, 
once at least, cooking at her own 
hearth the savory food to which 
they looked forward from one year 
to another. So the good neighbors 
this time provided the raw material 
for this " day of days/' 

The arrangements for the occa- 
sion were nearly completed; the 
earthen pan was filled to overflow- 
ing with savory mince-meat, all 
ready to be constructed into pies for 
the feast. The final task of gather- 
ing fuel to heat the old brick oven 
would complete all the arrangements 
131 



for this great occasion^ so she called 
her eldest child^ Joe, who had ever 
been the best of lads, to assist her in 
dragging from the grove the needed 
quantity, leaving the younger chil- 
dren to care for themselves. Oh! 
what a great day was this to those 
little people! When the mother 
finally returned to the house, what 
was her dismay to find that the 
hungry little ones had devoured the 
last morsel of mince-meat, leaving 
the awkward earthen pan as clean 
as though its late contents had 
never been there. Then the tired 
little woman, for the first time in all 
her trials, utterly broke down, and 
wept bitter tears of disappointment 
for her lost mince-meat. 



Cd 



"X 




During my childhood days, return- 
ing from school one day for my 
noonday meal, what was my sur- 
prise to find a well-dressed, elderly 
gentleman occupying the place of 
the honored guest at my mother's 
dinner-table. This gentle old man, 
noticing my perplexity at the familiar 
way in which they addressed each 
other, as "Sallie^' and ^^ Joe,'' by 
way of explanation related the story 
given above, and concluded the nar- 
rative by declaring that his mother's 
tears at the loss of her mince-meat 
were the means of influencing his 
whole future* As he told his mother 
by way of solace, '^ When I am a 
man I will have things different 
from this." A year or two after — 



yj^y^ 



and he completed every mile of the 
long journey to the new country of 
the Aroostook on foot; succeeding^ 
by his honesty and integrity, in 
accumulating sufficient wealth to 
insure (as he said) the respect of all 
his immediate relatives and friends. 










134 



c 

3 
Ou 



n 




THE ROPE- WALK. 

EAR the present site of the 
Maling house^ away back 
in the long, long ago, 
stood the head-house of the famous 
old rope-walk. What a pity such 
a reminder of the flourishing days 
of the great West India trade could 
not have been preserved to the pres- 
ent time, to afford interest and gratify 
the pleasure-seeker in his search for 
relics of by-gone days. When we 
come to consider that not one person 
now survives who can give authentic 
information about it, surely does the 
past industry become a subject of 
speculation. Like a dream we call 
to mind that the old folks used to 
have 'Mong as the rope- walk" in 



speaking of objects of unusual length. 
One old friend said, in her estima- 
tion, it must have been a quarter of 
a mile in length* 

What a curiosity! — the quaint 
old wheels, one at either end, each 
provided with six spindles, that six 
crack spinners might operate at one 
time. So often have the old people 
told me of their mode of spinning 
the flax, that in my fancy I think I 
can see them to-day just as they 
appeared* You will know that 
these spinners must ever walk back- 
ward; that the hank of flax from 
which they spun the rope was car- 
ried around their body and drawn 
out in this way; that one hank was 
sufficent for the journey down the 
136 



walk and back; that a curious old 
bell was employed to give signals to 
the boy at the wheel to stop; that 
these same lads would patiently turn 
these wheels until the day was done 
for the pittance of fifteen cents ; that 
these spinners never drank water, 
considering that liquid good enough 
to wash in occasionally, but on each 
return trip, before starting with the 
next hank, drank copiously from the 
bucket of grog always to be found 
in the head-house; that in laying 
up the rope and cables two magnifi- 
cent horses of great beauty were 
employed ; that the rope made must 
have been of inferior quality, since 
so much tar was used in its con- 
struction, — the trade at this time 



being mostly to hot climates^ this tar 
would naturally form a great objec- 
tion when heated by tropical climes ; 
that the employees of this rope- walk 
held one day of the year in especial 
veneration — St. Anne^s — for the rea- 
son that this good Queen once paid 
a visit to a rope-walk^ spun a rope- 
yarn, and at the same time raised 
the wages of the workmen. 

The business of this particular 
rope- walk must have been for a 
time a profitable one, since the busi- 
ness of the West India trade called 
largely for its several products* It 
is said by some of the ancients that 
the last eight-inch cable turned out 
from this place was divided among 
persons interested and kept for a 
138 




Olcl as Capt. Gosnold. 



souvenir, since products of this kind 
were no longer needed, their use 
having been replaced by chains. 

Few are the reminders now left 
of the great West India trade, which 
did so much in the building up of 
the settlement, the prosperity of 
which led many to believe this to 
be the future Portland of Maine, 




139 



LOSS OF THE BARQUE ISADORE. 

^i^;: HE one great tragedy in the 
^gS: later history of this town^ 
^^M the loss of the Barque Isa- 
dore almost in sight of the town, 
will always remain fresh in the 
memory of the inhabitants. The 
story has too often been told to need 
a place in this little volume, but the 
tragic cast of the circumstances con- 
nected with it are so thrilling that 
one never loses his interest in their 
recitaL 

Sailors are ever a superstitious 
class. The stopping of a vessel on 
her ways, from a seaman^s point of 
view, betokens bad luck ; no sailor 
leaves his port willingly on Friday. 
Again, these people entertain great 
140 



f{ 




I 



I 






-fiuHH 



faith in dreams and omens. All 
these bad indications, so ominous to 
the seaman, attended the starting 
out of the fated '' Isadore/' Among 
the seamen to first sign ^* articles'' 
for the voyage was one Thomas 
King, a sailor of much experience. 
Three or four days before the 
barque sailed, King had a strange 
dream, which so disturbed him that 
he made up his mind not to ship, 
and those to whom he told it were 
also impressed. King disappeared a 
day or two before the vessel sailed 
and did not show up again till four 
days after tfie wreck. He offered to 
pay back his advance wages, but the 
owners had little disposition to blame 
him for the desertion and refused to 



141 



accept his offer. The most singular 
fact in connection with the fulfillment 
of King's ghastly dream was that 
seven bodies were recovered to fill 
the seven coffins he had seen in his 
dream. Mr» King never fully recov- 
ered from the effects of the shock. 
A month after the tragedy the body 
of the cabin boy^ George Perkins 
Davis, was cast up from the sea. 
Remembered by the few who now 
survive him as a lad of uncommon 
promise and high character, also 
possessed of very rare mechanical 
skill, it would seem strange indeed 
why so suddenly he experienced so 
great a longing for the dangers of 
the sea. Not even the persuasion 
of his only sister, slowly dying of 
142 



consumption, could dissuade him 
from his purpose. The parting 
between brother and sister was 
more than touchiiig. Realizing that 
upon earth they might never again 
meet, she counseled him regarding 
his future, ** Promise me/* she said, 
^*that, v/hatever your calling in life 
may be, you will strive to be noble, 
true and steadfast/' The final 
good-by was about to be said when 
he confided to his sister his impres- 
sion that he would be the first to be 
taken, and so it proved. In the old 
Pump and Block Building, devoted 
to his father's business, some years 
since destroyed by fire, was to be 
seen his full name, carved so artis- 
tically by himself the last thing before 

143 



going on board the ** Isadore ^* that 
none could ever pass without having 
their attention attracted to this fine 
piece of workmanship. 




144 




PEDESTRIANISM. 

ROM the time when those 
uncouth fishermen of the 
seventeenth century re- 
ceived their shock of surprise at the 
uncommon speed of the Indian. lads 
down to the present day^ Kenne- 
bunkport has ever retained the dis- 
tinction of being remarkable for its 
feats of pedestrianism. With rare 
delight the Indian children would 
loiter about the homes of these early 
settlers^ curiously watching every 
movement they made^ often greatly 
puzzled at the domestic doings of 
the women, so unlike the methods 
of their own people, until between 
their strength of numbers or long 
continuance, these visits many times 
145 



became annoying. Then the white 
woman would offer the largest some 
trifling gift^ such as a piece of pork, 
for instance. Immediately after re- 
ceiving the donation they would 
start on the quick run by one of the 
paths leading homeward, and so far 
as the eye could see them, in their 
flight through the forest, they were 
still holding the same gait, and it 
was a well-known fact that these 
children of the red man could com- 
plete the whole journey to their vil- 
lage at the Old Fafls, four leagues 
or more away, and never find them- 
selves an iota the worse for this trial 
of their feet* So-called civilization 
has taken the kink from their limbs ; 
at the present they boast of no more 
146 



celerity than comes to the share of 
the enlightened white brother. 

Before the time of the railroads, 
bold sailor-men were often compelled 
to cover the distance to the ships 
upon which they would embark in 
Boston by means of the rough ** post 
road/' It is believed they experi- 
enced no dread of this long walk, 
generally going in company with 
some congenial messmate, varying 
the monotony of the task by an 
occasional draft of West India rum 
at the convenient houses of enter- 
tainment scattered along the route. 
Many charming yarns are afloat of 
these early crusaders ; your patience, 
however, will be wearied with the 
relating of only one or two. It seems 
147 



that a stalwart seaman was walking 
in company with a burly African, 
the proposed cook of the voyage; 
being thirsty, they sought the favor 
of a drink of cool water at the first 
tavern they reached* The bar- 
tender, having an especial aversion 
for a man of color, was openly inso- 
lent to them both* Not wishing to 
have trouble with this renowned 
athlete, they took a hasty leave and 
hurried onward* The farther they 
•v^alked the more the white man 
brooded over the late indignity* It 
was not his wont to brook affairs of 
this sort in any such peaceable man- 
ner* The negro by his side trudged 
patiently on, little caring what rough 
jokes should fall in his pathway so 
148 




A profound scholar, who lost no opportunity in seeking to 
elevate to a higher standard of knowledge those about him, now 
promoted to the higher education not revealed to earthly mortals. 



long as he reached his destination in 
safety. After traveling a long dis- 
tance from the place of the encounter 
(the one who told me said ten miles) 
he confided to the colored man his 
conviction that he must return and 
settle with the offender as his case 
deserved. The negro gave the 
assurance of holding the culprit 
while the other should administer 
the thrashing, and return they did, 
the punishment there received being 
so conclusive that the next time we 
hear of the recipient is in the capacity 
of the itinerant clergyman. Little 
things often turn the natural bent in 
the future of one's life. 

Another account, according to an 
old citizen (who always told the 




149 



truth), is here given* A well-known 
Cape Porpoise resident had obtained 
employment at his particular craft in 
the city of Boston, Thanksgiving 
Day drawing near at hand, he de- 
cided to spend a part of the day, at 
least, with his family. The hour of 
four in the afternoon of the day pre- 
vious had already struck before the 
faithful man could get under way 
for the journey homeward* He had 
proceeded but a few miles when he 
overhauled a man of slight stature, 
on his way to Wells, heavily bur- 
dened with a good-sized ham and a 
large spare-rib* They quickly made 
each other^s acquaintance, but the 
Cape Porpoise man had grave mis- 
givings of his companion reaching 
150 



CO 




his destination with that heavy load. 
Unfortunately, he could give him no 
assistance, being well burdened him- 
self with bundles of his own. To 
the great surprise of the larger man, 
his fellow traveler never faltered in 
the long distance passed, and they 
reached Wells at eleven in the fore- 
noon of the next day. The Cape 
Porpoise man, after parting with his 
new-made friend, pushed on with 
renewed courage towards his home, 
arriving in time to do justice to the 
substantial feast prepared for this 
occasion. Then, paying his large 
circle of friends and relatives a flying 
visit, he started to return and, in 
company with his Wells friend, 
reached Boston in time for work the 
151 



following Monday, neither none the 
worse for their mammoth effort of 
the last few days. 

Later we hear of the farmers' 
daughters allured to the busy hum 
of the factories, ten miles away* 
Not very often could these charming 
maidens endure a Sabbath away 
from the cheerful home, so at the 
close of the long Saturday of labor 
hasty preparations would be made 
for the weary walk homeward, and 
this is not all, for so precious was 
their wardrobe that, nine cases out 
of ten, the principal part of their 
earthly possessions would accom- 
pany them on each of these trips. 

But the great pedestrian of all is 
*^ Life,'' — you would know him 



152 



should you happen his way. Of 
him it is related in good faith that 
once, starting in the early morning, 
he proceeded to Biddeford, ten miles 
away, to secure a whitewash brush 
and returned in season to faithfully 
perform the regulation day^s work 
at his craft. Now, Mr. Weston! 
now. Bertha Von Hillern ! beat this 
record when you may ! 

One word and this subject is 
concluded. The wise men at large, 
not so many years ago, realizing 
that Scripture was being fulfilled, 
and each generation was surely 
growing "weaker and wiser,^^ set 
about for every possible means to 
avert the inevitable of this assertion. 
All the manly sports and devices 
153 



that we hear so much about from 
our colleges and other institutions of 
learning were certainly brought 
about with this in view* To what 
degree of perfection this sensible 
attempt has reached, every intelli- 
gent person is well aware. But, 
with all that is done, we somehow 
notice a lack in the training of the 
feet* The great masses of our 
broad country do not exercise them 
as they should* Too few recognize 
the great benefit of a delightful walk* 
Perhaps the censured football game 
may have, among the many objec- 
tions offered against it, this virtue of 
tending to bring into play muscles 
in the human mechanism otherwise 
so sadly neglected* 
154 





-«< 













7/ 







TEN-HOUR 
SYSTEM IN KENNEBUNK. 

REVIOUS to I85I the 
hours of labor in the ship- 
yards were from five 
o^cIock in the morning until seven 
o'clock at night, divided as follows : 
from half-past six until seven o'clock 
for breakfast and at noon an interval 
of forty-five minutes for dinner* It 
was a long and dreary day. The 
idea of shorter hours of labor was 
being agitated in a quiet way, for it 
was believed that the employers 
were so strongly opposed to a change 
that an immediate suspension of 
work or the prompt discharge of 
the men advocating the same would 
follow* 

155 



The first move was made by 
demanding and taking one hour at 
noon for dinner* The bell, as usual, 
rang at 12.45 and but two men 
responded and they afterwards re- 
turned to their seats on the first 
handy stick of timber. At one 
o^cIock one of the strikers rang the 
bell and the men promptly responded 
with a cheer and an immediate 
starting to work. After this gaining 
of their point the hour at noon be- 
came a fact. In the opposite yard, 
operated by Mr. Jacob Perkins, the 
men did not have the courage to de- 
mand their hour but resumed v/ork 
at 12.45 p. m. The next day at 
noon they remained seated until one 
o^cIock, when they went to work 
156 



w 




with a will accompanied by a cheer 
from Titcomb's yard. The propri- 
etor, Mr, Perkins, on hearing the 
noise from the men, stepped upon a 
large stick of timber to ascertain the 
cause of the cheers, and he was told 
that in future one hour's respite 
from labor at noon would be claimed 
by all of his employees. 

The carpenters at Kenncbunk- 
port in the meantime had obtained a 
concession of eleven hours, previous 
to which they marched in a body to 
the several yards at the Landing 
to help what they could the men 
employed there. The writer of this 
sketch was a young man, working 
at fastening, which at that time was 
job work. Hearing the discussions 



157 



going on around him by the car- 
penters, and thinking that action 
was better than words, he formed a 
plan which he thought would be 
successful* He was fearful, as many- 
others were, of a discharge or some- 
thing worse, for one of these con- 
tractors had been interviewed and 
had in a most decided manner (it 
was not the Titcomb Brothers) inti- 
mated that the ten-hour system met 
his views exactly, but it should be 
ten hours in the forenoon and ten 
hours in the afternoon. In J 852 he 
passed to that land where it is prob- 
able the whole twenty-four hours 
are used, for it is said of that locality, 
^* There is no night there/^ The 
individual or writer mentioned 
158 



above wrote some notices calling a 
meeting of all those interested in the 
ten-hour question to meet at the old 
brick schoolhouse on a stated even- 
ing, there to discuss this question 
and to take action if possible. To 
show the feeling on the question at 
the time, this notice was posted after 
nine o'clock in the evening. A set 
of resolutions was prepared for the 
occasion, of which the following is 
a copy: 

Resolved, That ten hours' labor 
shall constitute a day's work. 

Resolved, That we, the carpen- 
ters employed at this time, will work 
under no other system but that 
called the ten-hour system. 

Resolved, That every carpenter 
and employee in the several yards 




159 



be invited to sign these resolutions 
and aid in carrying the same to a 
successful termination. 

These resolutions were prepared 
before the meeting by the writer to 
save delay and were presented to the 
men assembled as the first action to 
be taken. Some funny speeches 
were made^ some earnest and to the 
point, one notably by a present resi- 
dent of the Landing (Mr, M, C, 
Thompson), who said he was soul 
and body in favor of the resolutions 
and had come to the point that he 
did not care whether school kept or 
not, his books were torn up. The 
meeting at this time was at fever 
heat and the resolutions were passed 
by an almost unanimous vote. All 
1 60 



present were then invited to the 
desk to sign their names to the res- 
olutions, and all did sign but some 
few noted exceptions, who would 
rather work fifteen hours than incur 
their employer's displeasure. Some 
out-of-town, transient they called 
themselves, were not willing to sign, 
as they considered it a local affair* 
One man then made a humorous 
speech in regard to the action taken 
and moved that these resolutions, 
with the signers' names, be presented 
to Mr. Titcomb by a committee 
appointed by the chair. These res- 
olutions were presented to Mr. G. 
P. Titcomb the next day and were 
received in a courteous and genrlc- 
manly manner. He immediately 

i6i 



granted their request^ or their plea 
embodied in the resolutions, and 
presented a paper on his part, which 
he wished every one of his employees 
to sign. It read as follows : 

^*The signers of this paper agree 
to be bound by the following rules. 
The hours of labor in this yard 
shall be as follows, — commencing 
promptly at seven o^cIock a* m., 
working until twelve o'clock ; com- 
mencing at one oVlock p. m. and 
working until six p* m. Each man 
expected to be promptly at liis work 
at hours named* Tardiness in com- 
mencing work and loitering and 
inattention during working hours 
will be followed by a prompt dis- 
charge of the offender/' 

All the men signed this paper* 
There was no strike, no stoppage 
162 



of work. It became a certain fact 
without any friction, no hard feeling, 
and good conduct on both sides. 

Let me here pay a tribute, well 
deserved, to one party on this 
question. He was the workmen's 
friend, for in many ways he kindly 
advanced their interests. Regard- 
ing his rights as an employer, which 
properly belonged to him, he granted 
their demand, all they asked in fact, 
without a protest, and he is remem- 
bered to-day by a few survivors, 
who were connected with this affair, 
as a good employer, a good friend 
and an honest, upright man. 



163 




IN WAR TIME. 

S EACH year sinks^ with 
all the preceding, into 
oblivion, it slowly but 
surely lessens the number who 
have a vivid recollection of the 
War of the Rebellion. For my own 
part, when all things else fade and 
are forgotten, the impression made 
on the plastic mind of my childhood 
will be as distinct as though the 
work of the present time* Although 
the principal theme of conversation 
in my humble little home, the events 
which led up to this terrible strife, 
as then heard by me, were like a 
confused jumble. At any rate, I 
remember that my dear mother had 
no sympathy whatever with the 
164 



yo 



n 




struggle and only regarded the 
whole thing as a needless massacre 
of the ^Mlower of our manhood/^ 
which headed the conflict between 
brother and brother in our well- 
beloved land. 

How clear to my vision is the 
scene of my home the morning the 
news reached us of the bombard- 
ment of Fort Sumter, Child that I 
was, I could fully realize that now 
the struggle was surely begun ; no 
earthly power could now quell the 
quarrel ; the fight must now go on 
to the bitter end» And was ever 
war commenced in a more remark- 
able manner? Think of a contest 
between eighty and three thousand 
men for so many hours and not a 

i6.s 



man lost on either side* After this 
event things get confused again in 
my memory, until one morning I 
knew by my mother^ s demeanor 
that, for some reason, she was in 
great trouble* I had heard them 
talking of the *^ draft ** for some time, 
but could not understand its mean- 
ing* How could a girl of eight 
summers know that the United 
States, if necessary, could raise, at a 
short notice, the largest army of any 
nation on the globe by this very 
means? It was harvest time, and 
the women of the community were 
occupying all their spare time in 
gathering husks from the corn in a 
neighboring barn, for then very few 
fine mattresses were found in the 

i66 



\lf 



H 



n 



= I. 



homes of the middle class^ the usual 
method being a bed of sweet husks, 
surmounted by a famous one of 
feathers, both resting gracefully on 
a clean, corded bedstead, all com- 
bining, I assure you, to give a 
resting place upon which even an 
unhappy king might repose in peace. 
On this particular afternoon there 
was an unusual number gathered 
in the barn, all busily at work on 
the odorous corn, each one working 
in silence, with grave forebodings of 
what was to come, when lo! a 
messenger appears with the belated 
newspaper. Never before did our 
boasted freedom of the press bring 
such dismay to so large a company 
gathered. It seemed, for a moment, 
167 



that all were speechless; then a 
neighbor by my side breaks the 
stillness* ^^Read^ let us know the 
worst; it will be best/' Then he 
begins^ and^ will you believe me, 
not one person there but had some 
dear one represented in that draft, 
which included all able-bodied men 
from the age of eighteen to forty- 
five* Dollars were not too plenty 
in our midst at that time, and many 
there knew that should their cher- 
ished husband, son or brother pass 
the hands of the surgeon at Port- 
land, nothing could save them from 
their terrible doom, for this is just 
the way they all looked upon it, in 
their ignorance of warfare in those 
days, I remember the very words 

i68 



of one woman between her sobs: 
"If my husband has to go, I shall 
bury him when he leaves me; he 
will never return, it is impossible/' 
This poor lady was the mother of 
six children, an infant in her arms 
at the time. For my own family 
not one escaped the draft, down 
even to the third and fourth gener- 
ation. You may be sure no more 
husking was done that day. Almost 
as soon as mother and I reached 
home we were joined by a saintly 
old lady, who called to offer condo- 
lences to my mother on the draft of 
her only son. Before taking her 
departure she engaged in fervent 
prayer, and such a prayer — it seems 
to me, if called upon, I could repeat 

" ^, 



<rH4f>r* 



it word for word, but it would be 
sacrilege to do it* As soon as she 
was risen from her knees she glided 
softly to my mother^s side and said 
in an undertone, which my quick 
hearing caught, ^^Now, see here, 
couldn^t you cheat a little in his age ? 
You know he looks small to be as 
old as nineteen/^ My keen sense 
of the ridiculous, even then, caused 
me to see the incongruity of the 
suggestion, especially so soon after 
committing all human events to the 
wisdom of God, and I could hardly 
restrain a snicker, although I rea- 
soned that perhaps in such trying 
times as these even God Himself 
would need a little help. 

It would take too much space to 
170 



o 



!? 




;m^ 



relate the many interesting occur- 
rences which immediately followed 
the draft. Perhaps^ however, one 
little happening would not be out of 
place. In one way and another all 
the good men were relieved from 
duty as a soldier, unless wishing to 
serve, except one friend of ours, the 
father of a large family. Every 
neighbor was greatly concerned for 
his future, should he be found battle 
worthy. Then the women held 
conclave, — something must be done 
to save ''Uncle Nick'' from the 
war. My mother was a surgeon, 
in a way, so she decided on the 
course to be taken. Years before, 
while ''Uncle Nick" was yet a 
youngster, he had been afflicted with 
171 



a frightful abscess near the ankle 
joint; in healings a most hideous 
scar had remained^ but the ankle 
was as good as ever. Now what 
did these wise women do^ but with 
certain home-made preparations cre- 
ate a bad-looking sore just above 
the old scar; of course all this would 
result with no harm to the limb. 
When called for examination ^' Uncle 
Nick*^ went limping in and was 
accosted with the somewhat impa- 
tient salutation, ^^Well, what ails 
you, neighbor? ^^ (The surgeon had 
not been very successful in obtaining 
recruits from this county.) *^ Oh ! ^* 
says ''Uncle Nick/' ''I am all right, 
I have rather a bad ankle, but I 
reckon it won't hinder me being a 
172 



soldier/' The surgeon now made 
examination. Oh ! those bandages — 
these wily women of the last gener- 
ation knew well how to bother the 
surgeon — every pin inserted in such 
a way that its head could scarcely 
be found ; the crossings, this way 
and that, were such that, on any 
other occasion, one who knew how 
work of this kind should be done 
must have been provoked to fits of 
uncontrollable laughter* But this 
official felt very little like merriment ; 
his duties just then were of the kind 
not mirth-producing, you may be 
very sure* Oh ! these were trying 
times in the history of our land! 
When, at length, the last wrapping 
was removed the officer started back 

173 



in dismay, ^^How long have you 
had that scar ? ^* he inquired, ** Uncle 
Nick/^ ever himself whichever way 
the breeze, replied, ** That, sir, has 
been there now for abouty twenty 
years/^ The surgeon, supposing 
the abrasion above to be a continu- 
ation of the old trouble, hastily re- 
placed the wrappings, directed him 
to pass on, informing him that with 
such a leg as that he could be of no 
assistance in marches, and conse- 
quently not wanted in the service. 
So soon as ^' Uncle Nick^^ closed 
the door between them he hastily 
turned about and, shaking his closed 
fist in the surgeon^s direction, gave 
vent to his feelings something like 
this : ** These two legs, you darned 
174 




Old-Fashioned Corner. 



old quack^ will take me to Kenne- 
bunkport inside this and twelve 
o'clock to-night '^ (it was then about 
five in the evening), and no persua- 
sion could induce him to avail him- 
self of the return ticket to this place, 
for walk he would and did, arriving 
home a little before midnight, in 
time to take part in the substantial 
feast prepared fcr the occasion. For 
so sure was the good wife of the 
success of the ruse, that eleven 
pounds of corned beef had been 
secured as a nucleus of the supper 
to be given to all who participated 
in the affair. For my own part, I 
cried myself to sleep that night, being 
denied the pleasure of counting one 
more at this most famous tea-party 



ever given in the old town of Ken- 
nebunkport* 

People have^ long ago, grown 
weary of tales of this most cruel 
war, for such it was, — the battle of 
Antietam alone being the bloodiest 
day ever known to modern history. 
Still the young among us find inter- 
est in hearing of how the school 
children of our village, instead of 
passing Wednesday and Saturday 
afternoon holidays in their usual 
pastimes, repaired to an upper room 
in the Custom House and under the 
guidance of the teachers there pre- 
pared lint, for the wounds of the 
soldiers, from old linen furnished at 
the hands of the matrons. 

Then there were also the amusing 
176 



features* One worthy, well-known 
Irishman willingly took up arms for 
the glorious cause. When he was 
bidding his wife adieu at the final 
moment he cautioned her, should 
she hear that he was killed, not to 
pay the least attention to the report 
until she heard from him. 

I think one of the most pathetic 
events which I call to mind was 
the case of a heart-broken mother 
mourning the death of a favorite 
son, who fell in the blood-curdling 
battle of the Wilderness. Her con- 
stant entreaty was that his body 
might be returned to its native soil. 
After almost superhuman efforts the 
remains were forwarded to the old 
home. At the very moment of 



177 



burial some one discovered that it 
was not the son at all, but ^he body 
was committed to the dust and the 
fond mother never knew, to the day 
of her dying, that the grave con- 
tained any other than the beloved 
form of her darling boy* 

With the lapse of years the sad 
as well as the humorous events of 
this time are fast being forgotten. 
It is earnestly hoped that any feeling 
of bitterness that may still lurk in 
the hearts of the again united nation 
may be banished, and the rising 
generation sensibly acknowledge that 
if there was wrong on either side it 
did not happen yesterday, therefore 
the present line cannot be blamed 
for what their fathers brought about 
178 



in their zealous protection of what 
they divined were the rights of the 
government* 

No more shall the war-cry sever. 

Or the winding rivers be red ; 
They banish our anger forever 

When they laurel the graves of our dead. 
Under the sod and the dew, 

Waiting the judgment day, 
Love and tears for the Blue, 

Tears and love for the Gray. 






179 



MY CRUISE UP THE RIVER. 



Do we ever glance far back-ward 
To that race of long ago ? 
Their canoes then sailed this river, 
Just as ours sail up and dow^n. 
And 't^vas then unbroken forest 
Where is no^w the smiling town. 




OT every girl or boy of 
larger growth yearns for 
those happy days of child- 
hood, especially after meditating on 
the restraint which generally at- 
tended them. However, if there be 
one spot reserved by stern fate 
where child-life was full and free, it 
was in old Kennebunkport during 
this period of life in our generation. 
Mentally reviewing our own life, 
there passes the memory of a certain 
afternoon when my uncle so kindly 



I So 



n 




interceded for me to return with 
him to his home far up the river by 
means of his awkward wherry, the 
pride of his sailor heart. Oh ! the 
pleasure of that trip taken so long 
ago! for would not the dear aunt, 
whom I loved next to my mother, 
be sure to meet us at the door to 
extend a welcome such as we may 
never know again until, are we so 
worthy, the portals of the great 
beyond are entered. But the trip 
up the river, — uncle knew from 
boyhood every foot of the shore on 
either side — as who of his time did 
not? So he talked and told, while 
we so faithfully listened ; explained 
the dangers and troubles one might 
experience in passing the ^* Falls,'* 

iSi 



iust above the *^ Old Locks ^^ ; related 
to me the sad story of the sea-cap- 
tain's charming English wife^ who, 
lured to her husband's quiet estate 
on the banks of this river, was well 
content until her beautiful boy, the 
one child of their union, was snatched 
by the relentless hand of Death, 
leaving the despairing mother to 
silence her woe by plunging into 
** forgetfulness '' from the wharf, then 
so plainly seen opposite the captain's 
estate. When the Upper Falls were 
reached we must loiter in our cruise, 
while he looked for the Indian grave 
his grandmother so long ago had 
pointed out to him. Then, when 
the story of the grave was told, we 
must go across the river to see the 
182 



po 




H^-* 



very spot where a settler once passed 
through such terrible danger and 
yet outwitted the Indians. Very 
near the close of the seventeenth 
century, said my uncle, there could 
be seen, about half a mile above 
these ^* Falls,'' the typical home of a 
powerful pioneer, so fearless of the 
various dangers surrounding him 
that even the blood-thirsty Indian, 
with all his hatred for the white man, 
possessed a feeling akin to awe for 
this determined representative of 
Old England soil. One afternoon 
this settler was suddenly disturbed 
by the unusual sound of the bcU 
attached to the neck of his one great 
treasure, the family cow. 



183 




So he took his trusty matchlock 

And into the forest hied, 
Following the distant jingle 

Where it seemed his steps to guide. 

But he very soon discovered 
That the ringing seemed to be 

Right and left, and then up yonder 
As if sounding from a tree. 

So he knew^ the cunning Indians 
Had decoyed him in the wood, 

But determined to elude them 
If, by any chance, he could. 

No'w upon the ground w^ere lying 
Trunks of mammoth hemlock trees, 

HoIIow^ loRs, how^ very easy 
He could hide in one of these. 

So he crept into the nearest 

And w^as soon well out of sight. 

Where he found the space so ample 
He had room lo sit upright. 

Of the futile attempts of the Indians 
to rout him from his place of security 
little need be written. Knowing the 
methods of the savages so well, he 
concluded to wait with patience until 
they grew weary in their efforts. 
184 



At last, every scheme known to 
them was exhausted except facing 
the mouth of the log; this they 
would not do for fear of the trusty 
matchlock; the Indians firmly be- 
lieving that whoever lost his life by 
means of the white man's musket 
was forever debarred from the 
^* happy hunting ground/' After 
awhile all was silent in the forest, 
and still the white man waited until 
fully sure of their departure he came 
forth from his hiding to make hasty 
strides to his home, unmolested. 
There he found the precious cow 
peacefully chewing her cud, all un- 
mindful of the fearful danger to 
which her doting master had been 
so lately exposed. 
185 



During the relating of this story 
the old wherry was making good 
time towards reaching her destina- 
tion; now, as Durrell^s Bridge 
appeared in sight, he must relate 
the story of the Durrell family and 
the Indians, altogether too harrow- 
ing except for history. Here, in this 
vicinity, was repeated the land slide 
which so disturbed the early settlers, 
causing gruesome reports to be 
handed down from one generation 
to another. Above the bridge a 
good-sized volume could be filled 
from accounts of occurrences still 
preserved in one way or another. 
Perhaps, to many, nothing to be 
found along the banks of the river 
would be of greater interest than the 

1 86 



^'old mortar/^ plainly seen in a flat 
ledge on the east side of the river, 
marking the site of a considerable 
Indian village of the long ago» 




1 87 




THE SEAMEN. 

Heaven is as near from the ocean as by the land. 

ITH sadness we revert to 
the gradual thinning of 
the ranks of seamen, once 
so frequently met with in our seaport 
town. Theirs was an individuality 
peculiar to no other class. Where 
is the person, young or old, who 
would not be fairly entranced by 
their gift in the recital of adventures 
such as will be known before long 
only in tradition? Rarely do we 
meet, in our daily walks, a single 
type of this class, when, not many 
years since, fully half of the male 
population were either seafaring men 
or connected with the business of 

1 88 




Says Uncle Thomas: "There are three times in a person s 
history when he is equal with all mankind: when he is born, 
when he is at the polls and when he is dead." 



the sea. Somehow^ we who inherit 
the sailor blood cannot accustom 
ourselves to this gradual decay. 
The mariner's way of speech and 
their nautical phrases ring with a 
certain charm on our ears not no- 
ticed by any other form of speech, 
be it ever so elegant. While pon- 
dering on the history of Kennebunk- 
port in the days when this class of 
men were so often met, there appears 
the recollection of two or three who 
were more or less ** characters '^ at 
the period in which they lived. 

Not so many are now about 
who remember much concerning 
that typical old tar, Elias Hutchins. 
Among the earliest recollections of 
the writer there comes distinctly 
1 89 



before us a certain night, in early 
harvest time, when this old fellow 
was our guest over night* We had 
seen men of his calling as company 
of the father before, so we well knew 
it meant the best part of the night 
passed in exchanging their thrilling 
yarns, or comparing notes of times 
when they were messmates. To 
the great delight of the children, 
curiously lingering to hear the first 
stories, was the calling up by each 
of their presentation to the ** God of 
the Sea/^ In imagination these old 
fellows recalled the busy prepara- 
tions made for this initiation, as the 
'Mine of the equator ^^ drew near; 
of the consent, always willingly 
obtained from the captain by the 
190 



first officer, to allow all arrange- 
ments for the ceremony to be carried 
out in a style befitting so ancient a 
custom. Then, when all was ready, 
'' Ship, ahoy '' would be heard from 
the weather-side, ** Hello,'' the mate 
would answer, and the name of the 
ship, from whence and the destina- 
tion would follow in quick succession. 
When finally ''Old Father Neptune '' 
had been conducted to the seat of 
honor prepared for his majesty, the 
landlubbers would be brought for- 
ward for the ceremony of initiation, 
without which they were not, in 
those days, full-fledged seamen. 
The impromptu barber, fitted out 
with his barrel-hoop razor and dish 
of lather, created from coal-tar and 



191 



other ingredients more or less vile, 
together with the needful brush, 
usually made from the end of an 
old lanyard, found himself a person- 
age of great importance in this most 
exciting event of the sea* Occasion- 
ally the tables were turned and the 
object of the ceremony would send 
the participants in hasty confusion 
forward, and only for the timely 
interference of the mate would his 
majesty himself escape a downright 
good thrashing* If, however, the 
occasion was attended with no 
drawbacks, the second and final act 
was the baptism of the victim by 
means of the practice known as 
keelhauling. Finally, after the affairs 
of the ship settled down to the usual 
192 




tenor of their way, the newly pre- 
sented member mentally concluded 
that he had justly earned his rights 
to the privileges of '' Old Neptune's '' 

domains. 

Old age creeping on, ''Uncle 
Ellas'' found, all too late, what a 
serious thing it may be for a man to 
come down to the evening of life 
without the whereof for his keeping, 
and the time came when a contro- 
versy arose between our town and 
the adjacent one of Hollis to decide 
which should bear the burden of 
expense incurred for his mainte- 
nance. The improvident sailor, 
contentedly musing on some inci- 
dent of life on shipboard, sat serenely 
gazing at nothingness throughout 



193 



the whole controversy, A day or 
two after he confided his sentiments 
respecting the business of the law 
as follows: '^I vow and declare, 
before the lawyer from HoIIis was 
done talking I was fully convinced 
of my belonging to Kennebunkport. 
Before the fellow for the * Port * had 
finished his plea I was sure I was 
a native of HoIIis; but when the 
judge gave his charge to the jury I 
concluded that I hadn^t a being on 
God's footstool/' Poor, old'* Uncle 
Elias!*' for many a year has the 
grass been growing as peacefully 
over his allotment of six by four of 
this Mother Earth, and his memory 
as well cherished on account of his 
sunny disposition and shrewd phi- 
194 



losophy, as those of his time who 
had financially made life a greater 
success than his own. 




195 



THE CHURCHES. 

P^p ITH a feeling approaching 
fSmm reverence one gladly refers 
^ ^^1 to the churches overshad- 
owing their native village* What 
recollections flit^ like a panorama, in 
the memory of one past the middle 
mark of life* Now a gay wedding, 
at which some beautiful maiden 
sails forth to a distant home, full 
willing to leave behind the large 
background of cherished relatives 
and doting friends* Again the dole- 
ful sound of the funeral bell, calling 
us away from the busy cares of life 
to assist in the last sad rites of some 
loved one whose familiar face would 
be seen among us no more* 

How sweet is the remembrance 

iq6 



of my early childhood! Oh! those 
busy preparations for church — how 
carefully was the little blue and 
white checked gingham suit brought 
forth from its hiding place ; then the 
shoes — did ever princess of royal 
blood wear the like of my blue 
morocco shoes? And, to crown all, 
there was the beautiful leghorn hat, 
decorated with real blue ribbon, even 
to the bridle, so indispensable in the 
adornment of this article* But you 
must know that this elegant costume 
could be donned only on Sabbath- 
day* Never was it worn on any 
other occasion. Now how patiently 
I waited through the eloquent ser- 
mon of our beloved pastor, Rev, 
Mr. Nott. Then at the close of the 



197 



service dear, old "Aunt Lizzie Life ^* 
was sure to be onhand, in the 
church entry, to call together the 
little ones, her especial charge, and 
expound to them in her own sweet 
way the blessed truths of the GospeL 
How this respected lady loved her 
church, and how more than faithful 
was she in the cause to the very end. 
Then that great landmark, the 
Orthodox Qiurch. Why, when I 
was a small girl the quick peal now 
and again of the church bell told of 
the presence of fire in our village. 
If the warning smoke was in the 
direction of this old church, instinct- 
ively my trust would be that this 
valued building might still be safe, 
selfishly regardless of what home or 



place of business might be in immi- 
nent danger from the flames. Often 
has it been said that the designer of 
the stately steeple was taken from 
the poorhouse in Portland that this 
monument of his skill might be con- 
structed, whose great architectural 
beauty none can dispute. What a 
pity for a man of such genius to 
die an object of charity ! 

Last, but not least, we have the 
Methodist Church, so cheerful in its 
appearance. For many long years 
this house of God remained silent 
while the others rang out so sweetly 
the call to come and bear witness to 
the truths of the doctrine. Within 
a few years a wealthy church-goer, 
realizing the great need of a suitable 
199 



bell^ generously bore the expense of 
having one of great value placed in 
the belfry* An amusing incident 
goes concerning it* It seemed, to 
the ears of one of the communicants, 
the faithful sexton caused the bell to 
peal forth, in dirge-like tones, these 
words : 

S-a-m G-o-u-l-d gave the b-e-l-I, 
S-a-m G-o-u-I-d gave the b-e-I-1. 

On being told of the semblance, he 
declared, in good humor, that they 
might rest easy, never would that 
bell thus hold forth again, and it 
never did* Perhaps can be said of 
the popular Woman^s Aid Society of 
this denomination that it boasts the 
dignity of a male member among 
the number. Of course the applica- 
tion for membership was only a 



joke, but the honorary life brother 
always responds, without a demur, 
when his yearly dues are presented 
for payment* It is of a couple of 
the most worthy of the sisters of this 
church that the following is told. 
Phronie — everybody knows Phronie 
— lives a long way from church; 
the way also is very lonely. One 
dark evening, at the close of the ser- 
vice, these ^* mothers in IsraeV^ for 
such they are, remarked to Phronie, 
"Don't you feel timid to go by 
yourself that long, lonesome road? 
We should be very much afraid.^' 
** Well,'' answers Phronie, *' I sup- 
pose you would. Those who serve 
the devil by day are always afraid 
of him by night." 



In summing up the little talk of 
the churches^ it will not be out of 
place to declare that the most of us 
who claim the advantage of many- 
years of life under the shadow of 
these different places of worship 
could hardly decide which we could 
spare the best, and, God granting, 
may they long continue to thrive 
and prosper, for who would live 
where they could not boast of the 
influence of Christian churches? 



w 



r 




"UNCLE JOSHUA'S" 
ULTIMATUM TO SPAIN. 

(Parody on an old Yankee song.) 

You government of Spanish Dons, 

your King and Cortes, too, 
Consider well what you're about 

and what you mean to do. 
If you go to war with Yankees Fm 

sure you'll rue the day 
When you rouse the sons of Liberty 

in North Amerikay. 

You think our navy are but few 
and we are traders' sons. 

And since you sent the '^ Maine" 
up we have not many guns; 

We'll give you a little history per- 
haps you do not know, 

How we fought for freedom and our 
rights and won them long ago. 



Our mother was a stern old dame, 

she had a heavy hand, 
She fought us on the ocean and also 

on the land ; 
We fought for freedom from our 

yoke as Cuba does to-day, 
We gained the prize and licked her, 

were victors in the fray. 

And then when we were growing 

old she tried a bran^ new plan. 
She took our seamen from our ships 

her own stout ships to man. 
Once more we battled for our land, 

we won in hard-fought fight ; 
We did not fear to fight our foe, for 

we were in the right. 



204 



a 

o 

51 

n 




Once more, FII tell you of the time 

when a million of our sons 
Marched forth to aid their native land 

all armed with Yankee guns. 
The war was long and bloody, but 

freedom won the day; 
We banished slavery from our land 

and from Amerikay* 

A cry comes from a Spanish isle 

near to our southern shore, 
A cry from starving thousands who 

are dying by the score; 
They stretch their fleshless hands to 

us for succor and for life, 
They ask for freedom and for food, 

for us to end the strife. 



205 



We are bound to heed their thrilling 

call, for we ourselves are free, 
We will burst the chains that bind 

them, we^U give them liberty ; 
We will save them from your savage 

hand, the hellish work shall cease 
And in the place of starving men 

We'll make a lasting peace* 

Another loud and anguished cry 

comes from your Spanish isle, 
It tells of Spanish treachery, it tells 

of Spanish guile; 
It calls aloud for vengeance for a 

most damning crime. 
The darkest deed, unparalleled in 

the annals of our time. 



2C6 



This crime and others at our hands 

will meet with sure redress, 
And satisfaction for the wrong we 

forcibly shall press, 
For we feel that justice must be 

done in every nerve and fibre, 
So you had better give the island 

up and call it '' Cuba Libre/' 

We know a Spaniard found our 

land in 1492, 
If you wish to find it again all you 

will have to do. 
Like the gas-man for a leak with 

lighted match in hand, 
You'll surely find us in your search, 

both on the sea and land. 




THE TOWN HOUSE. 

ANY have been the uses 
and purposes to which 
the time-honored Town 
House has been devoted* One large 
volume could easily be compiled 
from the amusing incidents which 
have occurred at the annual town- 
meeting during its long lifetime* 
Many times it has been the scene of 
a protracted series of religious meet- 
ings* The writer will never forget 
the pathos and fervor attending 
these gatherings* Could some of 
those dear^ familiar faces now gone 
on be seen once more among us^ 
what a welcome there would be for 
them* 

The business of ship-building 
208 



often brought strangers of many 
climes into our midst, so it was not 
infrequent for your ears to be gratified 
with something like the following: 

^^Dear sinners, I was out in mine 
boat one day, my frent and mine, 
and de winds blow, and de wave 
he did roll high, and de boat he did 
shook, and dear brodder, dear sister, 
I was no more 'fraid than you would 
be to sit on that red-hot stove over 
dere/' 

Certainly the youngsters would 
grin over the like, but the sincerity 
and earnestness of the speaker left 
their impression, nevertheless, and 
there is no question but many have 
chosen the *^ better part ^' from hear- 
ing just such distorted offerings as 
this, 

209 



Upon another occasion, when 
ship-building was very flourishing, 
there were found among the stran- 
ger employees quite a number who 
leaned towards the Adventist form 
of belief. So removed were their 
views from those of the true creed 
of this denomination that one of the 
younger members, who possessed a 
talent for impromptu rhyme, was 
tempted, in a mood of contempt, to 
produce these verses : — 

Could old King David just for once 

To the Town House repair, 
And hear his Psalms there w^arbled iottb. 

By gracious, how he'd swear. 

Could old St, Paul just venture forth, 

From higher scenes abstracted. 
And hear his Romans there explained. 

By George, he'd leave distracted. 

One dear old brother, ** Uncle 
Wheelwright,^^ who formerly was 



a 



W"^^ 


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K^, 


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hx, j'^^u 


1 1 


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■lEn 


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..jB^3B 


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A^r- 



r^^^iiL 



the life of these meetings, has, long 
ago, reached the end of the heavenly 
way. What a power was this 
Christian man in those social meet- 
ings! There was a certain manner 
in the way he presented his convic- 
tions any great divine might crave 
to possess. So when he honored 
these simple gatherings with his 
presence, those who were privileged 
to be there were sure to be richly 
benefited by what they heard. 

This school of people, we are so 
sorry to say, are fast disappearing. 
Very seldom are their quaint sayings 
now heard. We, in turn, of middle 
life must seek to adapt ourselves to 
the present phase of society, and so 
adjust our manners and ways to 



those of the coming generation that 
our memory to them will be a pleas- 
ant reminder of days long gone by. 
Close neighbor to the dilapidated, 
old Town House is an edifice known 
in history as the Church of Burbanks 
HilL Formerly the site was occu- 
pied by one of much larger size, 
supported by the same denomination. 
About these two old churches many 
traditions can be gathered. One 
stern old divine would enjoin upon 
his people the importance of their 
diligence in searching the Scripture, 
In pleading tones he would exhort 
them not to leave their Bibles on 
the shelf until the word ** Damna- 
tion ** could be plainly written in the 
dust on the cover. Tradition gives 




H ^^ 



s m^ 



n 

c 



3 



this church the first to be heated by 
means of a stove* In the early 
days of this church such an absurd- 
ity as artificial heat by any means 
would not have been tolerated, the 
people of that time believing the true 
Spirit of God within of sufficient 
warmth to suffice all purposes. The 
day came at last when the first 
stove to be placed in a house of 
worship found its way into this 
church. From tradition we learn of 
the stern disapproval of a goodly 
portion of the assembled congrega- 
tion. Very soon the heat became 
so intolerable that improvised fans 
were seen moving vigorously in 
various parts of the church. The 
sequel of the whole proceeding, how- 

213 



ever^ is quite amusing^ since no fire 
as yet had been started in the inno- 
cent cause of all this discomfort* 

The old First Churchy organized 
at Kennebunk Landing in \ 750, and 
afterwards removed to the meeting- 
house now occupied by the First 
Parish (Unitarian) at Mousam Vil- 
lage, was, I think, the first religious 
society of any importance in the 
two towns* Residents of Lyman 
(not then called a town), Wells and 
Arundel attended at this place* 

The salary of the minister was 
paid in English money and by sub- 
scriptions* Colonel John Mitchell, 
who built and owned the house 
recently occupied by Amasa and 
Milo Huff, was a liberal supporter 
214 



at one time of this infant church, 
A new minister (Bourne's History- 
will probably give his name) was 
employed and a subscription paper 
started for funds to pay his salary, 
church expenses, etc. Colonel Mitch- 
ell placed his name on the paper for 
ten pounds sterling as his share in 
keeping the machinery in motion. 
At the end of the first year the 
Colonel refused to pay but five 
pounds, as he thought conscien- 
tiously that was all he was worth 
as a preacher, and high at that, and 
so endorsed it on his bill. 



215 



>^ 



H-. 



EXTRACTS 
FROM A FAMOUS PLATFORM. 



HE subjoined extracts are 
taken from a copy of reso- 
lutions written in a spirit 
of mischief by an intelligent lady of 
our vicinity^ Mrs, A, A. Wells, 
While we would differ with our 
esteemed friend in some points of 
her platform^ were we President of 
the United States, yet the true liter- 
ary worth of the production is not 
unworthy of notice, 

J St. I shall stop rum manufac- 
ture, put all there is in the bottom 
of the ocean; put all the tobacco 
with it, then if it kills the fish I shall 
save the men, and as it costs our 
nation twice as much for rum as it 
216 




Mrs. A. A. Wells. 



does for bread, and as much for 
tobacco, and if I have this money- 
coming in, I shall be getting rich 
fast, and the people will have for 
their part clear heads, contented, 
happy homes and comfort instead of 
vexation and hankering for drugs. 
I shall have peace in many homes 
that are now far from it. With this 
money I shall strive to elevate and 
educate the masses, for I should not 
be proud to be president of a nation 
where progress, peace and prosperity 
did not abound. I ever feel that to 
have happiness in this world and 
the next we must form correct hab- 
its here and must try in our limited 
way to shed happiness on others. 
2d. I should not have the off- 



217 



scourings of the old world poured 
upon our shores^ but strive to edu- 
cate and elevate our own people* 

3d» I should elevate and educate 
the women of the land^ for noble 
sons have noble mothers, and if 
woman has an incentive to engage 
her mind in things of practical utility, 
will not those whom they present 
to the world receive an impetuosity 
for good ? Madame De Stael once 
asked Napoleon, ** What can we do 
to increase the glory of France ?^^ 
He replied, ^* Educate, elevate and 
improve the mothers of France/^ 

4th* I should settle all disputes 
by arbitration. When a mother has 
trained through infancy and child- 
hood up to manhood^s prime a lovely 
218 



son, and when he is ready to act 
his part on the journey of life, to see 
him shot like a dog for the reason 
some one has quarreled whom he 
never saw, would be a deed I should 
not be proud of, 

7th, I should strive to have our 
ministers who now preach for the 
rich preach and realize from this 
text, ** The way to show our love 
to God is to show it to our fellow 



men/' 



8th. I should have our college 
students work off their love of hazing 
by tilling an acre of land to keep 
them in vegetables and to help the 
old people from wearing out on their 
account. 

9th, I should place all the taxes 
219 




on the land, so foreign syndicates 
that have bought up our land to get 
rich on the industry of the toiler 
may be glad to part with it to set- 
tlers at reasonable prices, 

10th, I should strive to have 
all classes realize the sacred truth 
that God^s laws do not bend to suit 
man^s whims, whether in or out of 
marriage, and that an interest in 
each other^s welfare should be the 
tie that binds beings together, I 
would not complain were the parents 
the only sufferers, but when we see 
the children forced into life from 
many ill-mated beings it is sorrow- 
ful to behold. 




SOME FAMOUS MEN. 
IHERE once occurred one 
of the most harrowing of 
_____ Indian massacres, just 
above DurrelFs Bridge, is to be seen 
an old homestead, commanding a 
fine view of the winding Kenne- 
bunk River together with the coun- 
try surrounding it* Our attention 
is called back to the memory of the 
original owner of this estate, not 
only for the reason that he was one 
of the great founders of the profit- 
able West India trade, but because 
through his line we were able to 
furnish for our government, in its 
greatest trial, a Secretary of the 
Treasury, who succeeded in honor- 
ably discharging his trying duties 



with satisfaction crowning him on 
every hand* The old folks used to 
have many interesting tales of this 
typical old Scotchman^ some of them 
very humorous indeed* It is related 
that once a customer at his store on 
the Landing was caught in the act 
of stealing a pollock fish* Mr, 
McCuIIoch, who could be stern 
upon occasion^ although generous 
to a fault and hospitable beyond 
degree, willingly forgave the theft 
on condition that the offender would 
repeat after him these lines : 

From Adam McCoIIoch 

I stole a pollock. 

And now^ I'm sorry for it. 

The man, who was something of a 
wag, instantly repeated the lines, 
exactly imitating the tone and voice 



^ 


" ^ 


fa 


Ik? " 




^ 






A Respected Citizen. 



of the merchant, who had the pro- 
nounced Scotch accent, ^'Darn 
you, I didn^t tell you to say it that 
way/' said old Adam. However, 
the laugh went round the store, the 
great man participating as heartily 
as any there gathered. 

Not long since a prominent lady 
of our community was speaking of 
a most pleasant call made by her at 
the Washington home of the late 
Secretary. The old gentleman re- 
ceived her with great delight, extend- 
ing extreme hospitality, since her 
early home was very near his own, 
and her father had been a valued 
friend of his youth. Said he: ^^I 
wish to talk of the old times, when 
I was a struggling young man, 
223 



teaching the children of the neigh- 
borhood that I might obtain means 
to further pursue my education/' 
In bidding her adieu he took occa- 
sion to tell her that to her father he 
owed much of his future success in 
life^ since from him he received the 
impetus for a higher education, so 
hard to obtain then, as nearly all 
men of intellect were so deeply en- 
gaged in gaining wealth that they 
were obliged to neglect the storing 
of the mind with the wealth which 
never loses in intrinsic value* That 
he must have been uncommonly 
handsome is proved by the following 
little story* While sojourning with 
an old sailor uncle I one day heard 
him rejoicing over some article in 
224 



praise of the late Secretary* " Uncle/' 
I said, *' I think you must be very 
proud that Mr* McCuUoch was born 
and raised in our midst/' ** Why, 
child/' he said, ''I should be glad to 
own him for a fellow townsman 
even if he had never made a name 
for himself, for you know well that 
it has been my privilege to see 
many a noted man, not excepting 
His Imperial Majesty, Alexander E. 
of Russia, and even he could not 
compare with this man in personal 
appearance/' 

An amusing story used to be told 
concerning the old family tomb, built 
so long ago* This ancient-looking 
resting place can be seen plainly on 
the line of the Sanford & Cape 




Porpoise Railroad, I would caution 
tourists against making the attempt 
to read the interesting inscription on 
the slab, since the arches, after the 
*^oId country ** custom, were probably- 
constructed of wood, which during 
the lapse of years has, most likely, 
become ** unsea worthy/^ 

The representation here given is 
the great house of the village, gen- 
erally known as the '* Mansion/* 
The circumstance that it was begun 
and completed during the Embargo, 
or while the second War of the 
Independence was going on, also the 
knowledge of its having been con- 
structed solely to aid workmen to 
obtain a livelihood during this starv- 
ing period in our country^s history, 
226 



together with the many interesting 
anecdotes connected with the build- 
ing of it, combine to cause every 
native or relative of ^^The Bunk" 
to regard this structure with a pride 
approaching reverence, not enter- 
tained for any other abode found in 
these parts. For years and years 
this fine, old homestead has been 
the summer residence of the late 
Charles P. Clark* The news of his 
recent death in a foreign land fell 
like a pall over the whole commu- 
nity. The recollection of this noble 
man will ever be most pleasant 
among the villagers. While being 
truly great, his demeanor towards 
those he met while sojourning in the 
town was simplicity itself. When 
227 



taking a morning ramble, one might 
often hear the heartfelt salutation, 
^^How do you find yourself this 
morning, * Old Silvertop ^ ? ^^ Then 
would follow the kindest of inquiries 
for the health and welfare of his 
old f riend. Again, ** Good-morning, 
^ Uncle Horace,^ things have changed 
in Old Kennebunkport since the 
time when I was a student at the 
^ Bread and Molasses High School/ ^' 
In justice to the ** Bread and Molas- 
ses High SchooV^ it may well be 
said that if for lunch this delicate 
dish constituted the principal part of 
the menu, then was it well for the 
learner, for does not that wonderful 
production of the past, ^^The Tal- 
mud,^^ direct that if a man would 
228 



5« 

9* 



r 



r 




be wise let him eat freely of bread ? 
The meaning of this declaration is 
quite obvious* Results, however, 
tell the story, and the derided ^* Bread 
and Molasses High Schoor' cer- 
tainly claims its share of commenda- 
tion in the making of the character 
of the late lamented gentleman. 

Gliding along the banks of our 
romantic river, one may notice 
a quiet homestead, now famous as 
the boyhood home of a great and 
noble man. Senator George C» Per- 
kins and ex-Govcrnor of California* 
As falls to the share of every noted 
person, the varied accounts of the 
successes and achievements of Mr* 
Perkins are too well-known to the 
country at large to be held upon, at 



229 



lengthy in the present sketch. It is 
believed that this plain^ little home 
of other days has never, for a mo- 
ment, been forgotten by the Senator, 
even the old well by the roadside 
would claim the honor of a visit to 
furnish a quaff from its pure depths 
on each of his many visits to the 
haunts of his youth. 

This illustration gives us Captain 
Frank Walker, the favorite sea-cap- 
tain, as he appeared when driven 
from his office for three mortal hours 
by a large colony of wasps. The 
wise insects naturally supposed the 
Captain to be the cause of their exile 
and hastened to show proper resent- 
ment, if, for once, he attempted 
entrance at the office door. Perhaps 
230 



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o 

3 
(« 

o 

O 

n 
O 

o3 

n 

n 
5 




all the nautical phrases allowable 
from the quarter deck were not 
vented for the benefit of the uncon- 
scious offender, who so recklessly 
destroyed the home of the wasps, 
thus causing all the merriment of 
that fateful summer afternoon* 

We give the ship ** Vigilant ** and 
barque "Hiram Emery ** in course of 
construction in 1878. The respected 
builder of a hundred or more of 
these craft, Captain Nathaniel L. 
Thompson, has, long ago, been 
gathered to the home of his fathers. 
Perhaps no business man of his time 
ever possessed a firmer hold on the 
affections of the people than did this 
worthy descendant of a fine, old 
family of Revolutionary fame. 

231 



A MODERN GHOST STORY. 

O BOOK of this kind 
could be complete with- 
out a genuine ghost story- 
sifted in here and there* The one 
I am about to relate is of the kind 
which will not draw upon sensitive 
nerves, neither will sleep be banished 
from having read the account of it. 
Once there lived in these parts a 
family of brothers, seven in all, who, 
as the time came for them to leave 
the family nest, each and all took to 
the sea as willingly as though this 
division of the earth^s surface was 
truly their natural element* 

Years came and went, and these 
hardy sailor brothers occasionally 
met at the old home, there to discuss 
232 




their adventures, exchanging thrill- 
ing tales of their life on the ocean, 
dwelling mostly on their hair-breadth 
escapes from the rough waters they 
had met. For diversion, like all 
seamen, they took keen pleasure in 
playing tricks upon each other, to 
the great amusement of the neigh- 
ix)rs. One evening the conversation 
turned upon the uncanny. How 
these brothers scouted the idea of 
the supernatural. Then the jolliest 
among them decided he would test 
the metal of him who was most 
skeptical. Now about two miles 
distant lived a favorite aunt, a wom- 
an of uncommon intelligence. This 
particular brother, the hero of my 
story, dearly loved to linger at her 

233 



house* The distance to her home 
was greatly shortened by a cut 
across lots^ the path leading the 
whole length of a large, country 
burying-ground* The very next 
time he set out in this direction the 
mischievous brother concluded to 
avail himself of the opportunity to 
have a little fun at his expense. He 
purloined from his mother^s generous 
store of linen a large, old-fashioned 
sheet, secreting it safely in the shed 
until the shades of night should 
afford friendly aid in the success of 
his project, ^^Now,^^ he reasons, 
^* brother may return at nine, but 
more likely it will be eleven; how- 
ever, I will be on hand, whatever 
time he passes through the grave- 
234 



?o 



I 

o 




yard/' So for two mortal hours he 
crouched behind an ancient grave- 
stone^ whose generous size was 
amply sufficient for the hatch-door 
of the ship he had so lately parted 
company with. When his brother 
was nearly opposite the stone^ he 
suddenly rose^ shrouded in the 
snowy-white sheet as if just risen 
from the grave^ and made attempt 
to embrace the brother. For an 
instant the astonished brother was 
spellbound, then, recovering his com- 
posure, he pitched into the appari- 
tion with such a vengeance that 
there was a *' resurrection " in a 
hurry, and the baffled ghost was 
only too glad to beg for mercy* 
The offender was let off only on 

235 



condition that he would try the 
same trick on a younger brother 
who often went the same route, not 
always to see the good aunt, for in 
this case there was a charming 
sweetheart who unconsciously drew 
him in that direction. The promise 
made that night to the brother was 
faithfully kept, and with what suc- 
cess the victim can tell himself, if he 
pleases, for he is often seen about 
these parts, I am sorry to have to 
account for the spirit in this case, 
for no one enjoys having a good 
ghost story exploded. However, I 
am obliged to confess this to be the 
fate of all goblins I have met, being 
able every time to prove their identity. 



236 



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